The Butterfly Effect
by Chelsss
Summary: One choice, endless possibilities. A story of self discovery, love and the struggle to choose one's own destiny. Can Evelyn Edwards ever achieve the happiness she longs for? OWOC [UPDATE: CH. 1, 2 & 3 REVISED]
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters, plot or anything I make up along the way.

Note: Student years may be mixed up, as well as some other things. Oh, in this story, Blaise Zabini is a girl. Why? Because I feel like it.

**This has been revised – though much of the plot remains the same. Some things have been tweaked though D.**

Rekindled Rivalry:

20 minutes. 15 minutes. 10 minutes. This is what I had been doing for the past hour; waiting until the minute hand hit twelve as the hour hand hit eleven. _Just 10 more minutes_, I thought to myself, _10 more bloody minutes._ I turned my attention away from my watch and to the window.

I watched as parents hugged their little ones, as if they'd never see them again. I saw some children crying, some children laughing, and even some trying to avoid their parents. And then I saw the older children laughing with their friends, happy to be reunited with them after the summer months. I tried to remember _my_ happy memories with my family and friends. However, I could barely conjure up one. It wasn't as if I hated my life. But I wasn't exactly happy with it either. I just hope there was something more. No, I knew there was something more out there, waiting for me.

I turned away from the window before it could hypnotize me. 10:58 am. Two more minutes until I'm far away from London and my family. However, only one more year until I'll never see them again.

The train ride would be long and tedious as it always has been for the past 6 years. I didn't have many friends; our house wasn't known for close friendships. I decided to read my book that I started and never finished, _Quidditch through the Ages._ Quidditch. I hated the bloody sport. My boyfriend on the other hand, was madly obsessed with it.

I only had about 10 minutes of tranquility when speak of the devil, my _loving and caring_ boyfriend walked through the compartment doors. I wasn't in the mood to see him, so I simply glared at him.

"What do you want?" I asked him, making sure he clearly noticed my annoyance of his presence.

"I was looking for you."

"Well, you found me," I replied cooly

"Come on, don't be like that. Didn't you miss me?" he asked as his arm slowly wrapped around my shoulders. I suddenly then felt his lips tracing my jaw line towards my lips. My body stiffened at his touch, and a shiver went down my spine.

"I was quite enjoying the train ride, up until this very moment," I snapped and squirmed away from him. I wasn't in the frame of mind to deal with him; I just wanted to have some peace and quiet.

"How would I make it up to you? I already said sorry," he pleaded.

"First off, you never associate yourself with that word, even to me. Secondly -" his lips suddenly landed on mine. His tongue slowly slipped into my mouth, which almost threw me over the edge. He was a good kisser, but I couldn't give into him; I wouldn't.

"Marcus Flint. This was your entire fault," I said breathlessly after I quickly pulled away from him.

Before he was about to answer, the train came to a halt, which gave me the perfect opportunity to leave him. Once outside, numerous questions were surrounding the corridor. No one knew what had happened or why the train has stopped. Nonetheless, it was quite humoring to see Percy 'Weasel' trying to calm everybody down – well, more like threatening.

"Get back in your compartments! There's nothi- hey! Give that back! I'm _Head Boy!_" My laughter was cut short because it suddenly felt like Antarctica. I could see my breath in the air, not to mention the ice that was slowly forming on to the glass and metal objects on the train. I felt nauseous and very depressed, but I couldn't explain why. Then as fast as the unhappy feelings came, it left. The coldness was gone, and those puzzling feelings were replaced with confusion. I walked down the train, looking into the compartments to see if anybody knew what just had happened.

Along the way, I ran into some students from my year, and coincidently my house. Warrington, Montague, and Blaise were sitting in their compartment talking and laughing about who knows what as I went to sit beside Blaise; one of the very few Slytherins I'd call a friend. "Do you what happened just now?"

Warrington laughed and patted my shoulder. "It's really nothing to worry about. Just some dementors looking for Sirius Black."

I widened my eyes in shock. "Did you just say dementors?" I knew about the escape of Sirius Black, but dementors looking for him here? It sounded totally ridiculous.

"You look like hell Edwards."

"Well, you know, dementors tend to make you feel bloody miserable," I said dryly. Again, more laughter erupted in the compartment.

"Honestly, there's _nothing_ to worry about! Just stay out of their way, you'll be fine." I slowly took in what they said. As Slytherins, we were usually associated with the Dark Lord. I wasn't surprised if Montague or Warrington knew something about this that Dumbledore didn't even know. I was one of the few who weren't; but I didn't tell anyone that. I didn't want to cause trouble, or bring any attention to me. I shrugged off any thoughts about _him._ The last thing I wanted to do was become another Harry Potter.

"If you three are going to beat anyone to a bloody pulp later on, it'd be interesting to note that _the boy who lived_ fainted during the attack. I heard one of the Weasley twins talking about it." Upon hearing this, Warrington's jaw dropped and suddenly roared in laughter. Blaise and Montague did the same thing.

"Are you joking us Edwards? Harry Potter _fainted?_" asked Warrington "Oh wait til Marcus and even Malfoy hears this. By the way, where is that lover of yours? Last time we saw him, he went looking for you. You two finally kiss and make up yet?"

I scowled. The last thing I wanted to do was to tell Warrington was about my personal life. "Mind your own fucking business."

"Ladies should not swear, Edwards." I simply glared at him and gave him the finger.

* * *

Hogwarts hadn't changed – well much. I did notice that there were dementors lingering on the outskirts of the castle. _Strange_, I thought,_ why would they look for Black here?_ Whatever. He wasn't my concern.

I felt a hand on my waist and his breathe tickled my necked as he whispered, "Scared?"

I slapped his hand away and held his hand. Marcus and I weren't a very 'loving' couple. We've been dating since the summer started. To be quite honest, I loathed Marcus throughout my Hogwarts years. It was our parents doing and request that we'd be together in order to retain our purity. In the beginning, it was quite awkward between us. He wanted to do nothing but snog, and I wanted nothing but run away. Over time, I had become immune to his actions, and I could even say I enjoyed his company – most of the time.

I was relatively silent through dinner. I watched as the new first years were becoming acquainted with each other. I watched as seventh years, people from my year were telling those tall tales about professors; especially McGonagall and Hagrid. I watched as Peeves, our school poltergeist threw quills at the first years. I was even amused by the imitations that Malfoy did of Potter. I looked over the Gryffindor table, and if looks could kill, everyone in Slytherin would be dead. I sometimes felt sorry for Potter, yet at times I didn't. I sighed; I looked over to Marcus and found him glaring at someone towards the Gryffindor table. "What are you doing?" I inquired.

"Hush you. Wood doesn't know what he's in for this year. We're going to take that Quidditch cup out of his hands." I rolled my eyes. Of course! It's always about Quidditch. Quidditch. Quidditch. _Bloody_ Quidditch.

"If you're done undressing him with your eyes, I'm going back to the common room," I snapped. I got up from the table and stormed out of the Great Hall. Men, one can never understand them! In all honestly, I didn't know why I cared whether or not Marcus paid any attention to me or not. I decided to put all thoughts of him aside. It was my last year at Hogwarts and I wanted to make it a successful, yet a memorable year. My marks would be my first priority. I silently promised myself to focus my thoughts all on my classes. No more Marcus. No more parents.

The hustling of first year students brought my attention to my surroundings. I hadn't realized I was heading into a wall. Luckily, I managed to save myself from embarrassment making a right turn. Unfortunately, I bumped into Slytherin's rivals; Gryffindors – many of them. I recognized some of them; Bell, who hexed me two years ago, The Weasley Twins, who threw a bunch of dung bombs in our common room a year ago, and Lee Jordan – the Quidditch commentator, who unsuccessfully tried to ask Blaise out in 2nd year, and was rejected quite miserably.

"Watch where you're going, you snake!" shouted one of the girls. I narrowed my eyes at her. This meant war. No one could call me such a name and get away with it.

I picked myself off the ground and held my head up high. "I apologize for bumping into something so…large. Perhaps if you were a little thinner, I could have avoided this whole fiasco," I said quite icily. I saw her jaw tighten and I smiled. I hit a nerve. She stepped forward and looked me right in my blue eyes. Wanting to agitate her more I added, "What are you going to do, mud-blood? _Hit me?_"

That did it. She jumped on me like a cat, or should I say _tried_ to. The Weasley twins withheld her back. "Let me go George! She deserves to be beaten to a bloody pulp!"

"She's not worth it, Angelina. The other Slytherins find out you touched their own we'll be paying a heavy price," said George, who tried to desperately reason with her. The other Gryffindors were taking her back to the common room before further damage could be done. Before she left my sight she yelled back, "This isn't over!"

I laughed and replied, mostly to myself, "I'm looking forward to it."

I turned around to walk back to my common room, however was cut off by one brown haired Gryffindor. "Move out of the way," I ordered.

He stood his ground, like a knight in shining armour. I glared at him and took a deep breathe. Whoever this bloke was, he certainly was angering me. To his pleasure, he smiled at his small victory. We stared each other down for the next few minutes. Who would dare challenge me? I took the initiative to study him. He was tall, built and looked very confident; definitely someone who knew how to hold their own fight.

"I think some manners wouldn't hurt," he replied in a think Scottish accent.

"Excuse me. You're in my way," I said as politely as I could without jinxing him with my wand.

He smiled to me and replied, "See? That wasn't so hard."

I merely glared at him and didn't want to waste my time with him anymore. I was tired and exhausted from the events that happened earlier. However just before leaving, I made sure he knew two could play at this game. "I'm looking forward to our next encounter. Perhaps we'll be better acquainted," I suggested and giving him the famous Slytherin smirk. Oh hell, I even added a wink.

This was a start to an interesting year.

* * *

**A/N: So** **hopefully, the first chapter sounds a little better. I'll be revising the 2nd and 3rd chapters, because I realized how ... stuffy, the writing style was (considering I started this story almost 2 years ago). Alright, toodles!**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters, plot or anything I make up along the way.

Note: **REVISED CHAPTER 2.**

* * *

My eyes slowly flickered open just as the sun rose over Hogwarts. I've always thought that sunrise was the prettiest time of the day - mainly because of all the colours. It made Hogwarts looked so mystical and mysterious. It made the whole world look phenomenal.

Looking around my dormitory, I found that most of my roommates were still asleep. Even in my first year here, I was always the first one to wake up. Why? I really didn't know. Perhaps it was a habit, or perhaps I liked watching the sun rise as I rose out of bed. Groggily, I walked to the mirror to observe my dreaded self. I could barely see myself, because I was half-sleep. Looking in the mirror, I tousled my pathetic excuse of what one calls hair. My hair was slightly wavy, which always never seem to look right. I hated how the contrast between my brown locks and my blue-grey eyes. My mother blames my father for my appearance. Then again, she blames my father for a lot of things that seem to go wrong in her life.

I got myself ready for the day to come. Last night, I received my schedule. I suddenly regretted taking such difficult courses. I had Advanced Charms, then Advanced Potions, followed by Ancient Runes and Herbology. I dropped Transfiguration because McGonagall had suddenly sparked an interest in me 2 years ago. In other words, I became her least favourite student. I actually had myself to blame for that. In my fifth year, Peeves overheard me calling her an old hag. He turned it into a song and well, let's say things got out of hand.

The song is still heard to this day, and it _always_ makes me laugh.

The Slytherin common room hadn't changed very much. It was the same cold, depressing and dark common room I had stepped into when I was a first year. Nothing was particularly comforting about the place. But what did one expect? We were Slytherins. Cold hearted bastards who worshipped a dead wizard that vowed to make everybody's life a living hell.

The common room was empty, as usual, during this time of day. It was too early for breakfast, and I was very limited by the activities I could do. Because of the escape of Sirius Black, Professor Dumbledore had restricted our curfew and the boundaries of the school. Letting out a big sigh, I did the only thing I _could _do: I read.

About half an hour later, I was joined by Blaise. She sat down beside me and laid her head on my shoulder. "Wake me up when the apocalypse comes," she muttered under her breath. "This is bloody ridiculous. How is it possible that you're up before everyone else, Evie?"

Shutting my book, I shrugged, "Habit."

"Habit? More like a nerd. Look at you! You're reading! And it's barely morning! You, Evelyn, should be in Ravenclaw."

"Me? Friends with Penelope Clearwater? Over my dead body Blaise," I said solemnly. "Come on. You need food." With that, I dragged Blaise out of the common room and went to Great Hall for breakfast.

When we arrived, very few students were already eating. I noted a hand full of Ravenclaws, and Gryffindors; virtually no one from Hufflepuff and Slytherin – quite typical. Hufflepuffs were just lazy. We Slytherins, just took pride if getting a full night's rest.

Blaise and I took our usual seats and began talking about our summer. I learned that my dear friend had gone to America while I was stuck in England listening to endless lectures from my mother. "You would have loved it there Evie! The shopping, the food, the men – "

"What were you doing there? I thought your parents loathed America," I inquired, finding it strange that Mrs. Zabini would want to leave her house.

"My father had to do some business with the Ministry," she added. I nodded in recognition and let her continue her story. I couldn't help but feel envy of Blaise's life. I stared at her for what felt like eternity. Her auburn hair seemed to flatter all the right places, while her brown eyes could capture any man's attention. Even though her parents were associated with the Dark Lord, they were a lot more flexible when it came to the choices she made. Blaise was a bright, cunning and witty student – an ideal Slytherin, I'd say. What did I have? A father who couldn't tell the difference between apples and oranges and a mother who would just about do anything to climb up the social ladder. But who was I to judge who has a better life? Who was -

"Evelyn Edwards! Are you even listening to me?" Blaise asked, while waving her hand in front of my face.

"Of course I am. You said that the men couldn't get enough of you and that you can't wait until to go back," I stated. If there's one trait I loved having, was the ability to multi-task.

Blaise laughed, "Smooth Edwards."

* * *

Time passed, and the Great Hall started to fill up with tired students who still thought it was summer. Blaise and I were about done with breakfast when a commotion was happening near the entrance. Naturally, we went to see what was happening – and to see if we could stir up some trouble, if a Gryffindor was involved. As we came closer to the circle of Hogwarts students, I heard a very recognizable voice – or should I say voices. I let a groan. _What_ were they up to now?

"You're going to pay for that Weasley!"

"You deserved it after what you said-," and then I heard a thud. I turned my head to Blaise. She already had her wand out and a smirk was plastered on her face. She always loved causing trouble – meaning she always got into trouble. I rolled my eyes, but went along with it anyways. Pushing through the crowd, I spotted Marcus and Montague, their wands out, pointing at one of the Weasley twins. I surveyed the situation and quickly took note that these were the same Gryffindors that I encountered last night. As much as I felt sorry for the nearly unconscious Gryffindor, I couldn't help but smile. They deserved this for making me look like a fool. But I felt that this was going too far. Before Montague could inflict anymore damage on the already frail body, I stepped in. "Marcus! What do you think you're doing?"

"Out of the way Evie! We're almost done with blood traitors like them." Marcus pushed me aside and kicked Weasley in the stomach. "That's for calling our quidditch team a bunch of cheaters."

Once again, I groaned. Of course! I should have known; Quidditch provoked this unnecessary fight. "Lay one more finger on him Flint, and you'll have it!" yelled a Gryffindor, whose Scottish accent sounded all too familiar.

Being the daring one, Marcus actually did what he said. He kicked Weasley again. I had about enough of this. I needed to stop this before a professor arrived, although it was hard not to notice a circle of teenagers. "Stop it! Both of you," I turned towards my pathetic excuse of a boyfriend, "Snape's already watching you like a hawk. You don't need anymore attention. Leave quidditch business on the pitch." I then turned towards the Gryffindor, "Listen, I don't know who you are but for your own good, leave _now_. You don't want to suffer anymore pain from us."

"You should listen to her Wood," Blaise piped in, who was casually standing next to Montague, "You won't see the next quidditch match the way this is going. Take our advice and do everything in your will to avoid us. You won't be so lucky to have Evelyn here to stop it."

I narrowed my eyes at her. She always made me sound like an angel; fighting for the good of mankind.I turned back to the Gryffindor and raised my eyebrows. So _this_ was the infamous Oliver Wood. The one Marcus knocked out cold 2 years ago in a quidditch match. The one many of the girls in my house always talked about. The one famous for his looks and charm. The one they called the 'forbidden gem'.

He was nothing special.

"Like what you see?" He asked just above a whisper, making me realize I was stared at him a little too long. Before Marcus, or even Blaise could do anything, I walked up dangerously close to him.

"I suggest you watch what you say, Wood. You never know what _accidents_ could happen to you." I said impassively. Blaise put her hand on my forearm, silently telling me to leave it be. I looked at her and her face said it all. _We'll deal with them when the time comes._

I walked away from the already dispersing crowd – but not before saying so that only he could hear, "Until next time, Oliver Wood."

Before I knew it, I had unknowingly set up a mental challenge between us. I had made my play. It was time for his.

* * *

Potions was my favourite subject. Not only did Snape favour students from his own house, but it was just like cooking. Honestly, anybody who failing potions was incompetent, in my opinion.

I took my usual seat which was near the front of the classroom. Sitting down, I put my head on the table. Half the day had already gone, and I was exhausted. Since Snape was here yet, I decided to close my eyes and rest my mind. I heard someone sit down next to me, and they were making a ruckus. I thought it was unusual for Blaise to move around so much. I felt her shift in her seat a couple of times. I felt her take out her textbook and flip through the pages. I even found it unusual for her to breathe so loudly. I assumed she just had a long day. Blaise and I were very different people. While I handle stress more calmly, Blaise often became restless when a mountain of homework was given to her. "Rough day, Blaise?" I asked

"What gave you any reason to believe I'm Blaise Zabini?" I choked on my breathe, resulting in a violent cough. That _voice_. _No._ It couldn't be him. The last person I wanted to deal with was _him._ I looked up, hoping that it was all a dream. But it was real. Oliver Wood had taken a seat next to me. Clearly noting my shock and unhappiness he continued mocking me, "You look unhappy to see me. I thought after our two previous encounters, you'd be more than happy to sit beside me. After all, didn't you say you'd like to become acquainted with me?"

My jaw slowly opened in shock. How dare he! How dare he twist my words around! Whatever game he was playing, I wasn't about to lose. I looked at my hands which were curled up in fists. I slowly relaxed myself; I wouldn't lose my temper because of some _Gryffindor._ I looked at him and stiffly smiled. "It's a free country," I stated.

He then took his hand out and replied, "I believe we haven't been properly introduced. My name's Oliver Wood."

Although I kept a straight face on, I was fuming inside. He was provoking me, and it was working. But I wasn't about to let him know that he was winning. I merely looked at the hand, hoping he'd get the message. However, hoping to shut him up I told him my name. "Evelyn Edwards."

"Very nice to meet you."

"Indeed."

The man was boring me already. I looked around to see where Blaise was. She was suppose to sit beside me. I caught her sitting beside Montague, laughing at his pathetic jokes. I narrowed my eyes at her, although she was far too busy to notice my situation. _Just ignore him. Pretend he's the breeze. A breeze and nothing more._ This is what I kept telling myself to pass the time. I was so thankful that Professor Snape walked in, and began the day's lesson with no delay.

Unfortunately, it felt like time seemed to have stopped. I blamed Wood for making class hell. Every few minutes, he would move into a different position, or he would start playing his quill and make incomprehensible motions in the air. Not being able to take I whispered harshly, "Will you stop your fidgeting! You're not a hamster, unless you want to be one."

"That's-"

"Listen, here's what's going to happen. You don't bother me. I don't bother you. Nobody gets hurt, and everybody's happy," I said a little too loudly because Snape had stopped talking.

"Ms. Edwards, I suggest you direct your attention towards me rather than Mr. Wood," he said icily. "Stop fidgeting Mr. Wood. You're going to give me a headache. 5 points from Gryffindor."

With that, he immediately stopped and concentrated on his studies the rest of the class.

After a horrendous hour or so, Potions ended. Packing my things I immediately left and met up with Blaise.  
I spent the longest time scolding her for leaving me in such an impossible situation to solve. She angered me even more when she just laughed.

"This is NOT funny. These are our permanent seats. Why were you with Montague anyways? I thought you despised him after he grabbed your arse last year," I inquired.

Blaise started to turn a slight shade of pink. With that, my mouth went into an 'o' shape. Now it all made sense. She fancied him! How could I now see it? The laughing, the casual touching…  
Has the world gone mad?

Wanting more answers to the million questions, I kept bombarding my dear Syltherin friend with questions. Truthfully, Blaise never answered. She always tried to change the subject, as if it were some shameful thing to talk about. I wasn't about to get any answers from her, so I didn't press on.

* * *

On my way to Ancient Runes, I couldn't help but think what a perplexing, yet interesting start this school year had started off. Blaise fancied her mortal enemy, and they could already be dating. I'm having a miserable depressing life. Oliver Wood now sits beside me, and wants to be acquainted with me. Personally, I thought he wanted to see me explode in anger. No, I _knew_ he wanted to make me angry. It would be the typical Slytherin response. He was testing me. But why? I couldn't be too sure. And to top it all off, dementors are patrolling our school for signs of Sirius Black. No one could deny it. This was a _very_ interesting year.

I turned around the corner, and speak of the devil, there was Wood. He was with his friends that I now identified as Katie Bell, Lee Jordon, George, Fred _and_ Percy Weasley, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

I calculated the facts: There were no Slytherins around. There were more of them than me. Angelina Johnson still wanted to hex me after yesterday. I insulted Wood countless times.  
This was not good. But then again, would the honorable and noble Gryffindors ever touch a girl?

Very cautiously and carefully, I walked passed them. I contemplating avoiding eye contact altogether, but I couldn't help myself. I was a Slytherin. I had to irritate them; somehow. So I glared and bumped shoulders with one of the girls.

"Hey! Watch it," Johnson yelled.

Pulling an innocent look, I said smoothly, "I thought we had this conversation already, Angelina. If you just lost some your _extra_ self, we wouldn't have this problem."

Fire erupted in her eyes. I knew I pushed yet _another_ button in her. Maybe it the way her name rolled off my tongue. Maybe it was because I had just insulted her dignity. Or it would be both. Either way, I was enjoying every moment of it.

"Do you have a problem with me?"

"Now why would I have a problem with you? Honestly Johnson, you need to lighten up. _Smile_. It will do you some good. No man would ever want a depressing woman on his side." I half smirked and smiled, briefly showing my pearly white teeth.

Before Angelina could retort, Oliver stepped in between us. "Stop it. Come on Angelina. Don't mess with her-"

"Are you defending her Oliver?"

"Yes, are you defending me? Because I don't need your help. Not now, Not ever." I narrowed my eyes at him. Inside, I was confused. Did he want to provoke me or become my knight in shining armour. I turned my heel and quite surprisingly, I saw Marcus, glaring at Wood. He stormed over with his _entire_ quidditch team. "Do we have a problem Evie?"

I rolled my eyes. It was all just an act. A bloody act to prove to everybody in Hogwarts that I was his and no one should come near me. Marcus grabbed my arm in an attempt to pull me closer to him, but I shrugged him away. I didn't need him to fight for me. I didn't need _anyone._

"If you care about your health Wood, stay away from her," he threatened. I glared at both of them. Wood infuriated me, but Marcus just made my blood boil!

As soon as we were alone, I pulled away from him and scowled. "Was that really necessary? I know my boundaries, unlike you. Honestly! I can't talk to anyone without you at my tail. Are you that insecure that you can't trust me?" My anger had reached its highest point. By now I was yelling and lingering second years turned their heads into our direction.

"You can talk to Blaise."

That did it. I slapped him – hard on the face, and stormed off. If this how my future was going to be, then please, someone kill me now.

No, this wasn't an interesting start. It was hell and misery.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters (Evie and her family), plot or anything I make up along the way.

Note:** REVISED 3****rd**** CHAPTER**

* * *

Breakfast was interrupted by the swooshing sounds of countless birds soaring through in air in the Great Hall. More than two weeks had passed since school started, and I already longed to go home. No, home was even _worse_. I wanted to leave Britain altogether. I was avoiding Marcus after our fight. But I must admit, it was very amusing to watch his pathetic ways to win me over.

They _clearly_ weren't working.

"Evie, isn't that your owl?" inquired Blaise, who was already tearing her letters apart from her newly found friends in America, I assumed.

My owl, which I never named, was a white owl that my father gave me in my first year. It never occurred to me to name such a creature, which is probably the reason why it hated me so much. I outright refuse to name it Midnight, Snowy, or worse, _Sunshine_.

Dropping a few letters consequently in my bowl, the mischievous creature left for the barn owl. I looked at Blaise and said, "This is bloody ridiculous. Seven years and it still doesn't do anything right."

"You should try actually giving _her_ some attention and maybe a name," she replied and continued reading her letters.

I diverted my attention to my mail. None of them I was really keen to open. I cast aside the Daily Prophet. I wasn't interested in the news. If it didn't affect me, I frankly didn't care. I received a letter from my mother – no less to berate me for my recent actions. Unfortunately she found out about the little fallout between her lovely daughter and her beau from Marcus' mother. And let's just say she was not amused.

I quickly skimmed the letter, and threw it aside. I wasn't interested in what she thought. It was _my_ life. Being so wrapped up in my thoughts, I had failed to notice that Blaise was trying to get my attention. I snapped out of my thoughts and motioned her to read the letter.

I hopelessly laughed, "She thinks I will become a spinster if I lose Marcus. I must be the greatest disappointment in her life."

"I know how you feel Evie. Trust me. My own mother is starting to wonder when I will settle down. It's normal for them to think like that." She wrinkled her brows, "Actually, it's all they think about. But honestly Evie, if you're not happy, then end it. For _real._ No more pretend break-ups."

"I would if I have the choice you know. But my entire future depends on my inheritance. Merlin, she doesn't even want me working after Hogwarts! She wants me to become just like her. If I defy her or my father in any way, I will be disowned and disgraced. What would I do then?"

Blaise said nothing but nodded in acknowledgement. There was really nothing she could say to improve the situation. She knew where I was coming from. Our families were very traditional and were adamant in keeping our purity. Any form of rebellion, and we would be disowned.

"Well, you know Edwards," she started saying, "you could always choose to be with Wood."

I scowled at her. "Don't test me Zabini. I'm already in a foul mood."

* * *

I left early for breakfast to recollect my thoughts. On my way to Potions, I wasn't surprised to see Marcus coming towards me. I inwardly groaned. It was too early to deal with him. There was nowhere to run, so I kept my head down hoping he wouldn't notice me. _Fat chance_.

"Evie!" he yelled

I didn't want to answer him, so I chose to keep walking, ignoring his endless shouts – and straight into Oliver Wood.

"You know Evelyn, you must stop walking into me," he lightly said.

I merely glared at him because Marcus was coming closer. From the looks of it, he didn't like Wood being so near me. For a moment, I was scared of what Marcus would do and wanted to run away.

As Marcus closed the distance between us, I instinctively went closer to Wood. He raised an eyebrow and me and whispered, "Is he giving you trouble Evelyn?" I looked up at him, and stared in his eyes. To my surprise, they were filled with concern. For a moment, I thought he wasn't playing. But I was quick to remember who we both were.

"I can handle him Wood. Just shut up and just … oh hell, just shut up." I coldly replied, as my thoughts were concentrated on my dear partner.

Marcus practically stormed his way towards us. "Wood, I told you to get away from her! Evie, come here!" he shouted so loudly that everyone in the courtyard was staring at us.

His yelling just provoked me to step closer to Wood. "You don't control my life, Marcus Flint. I can do what I want, when I want."

"You're crazy. If you think you can get away with befriending a Gryffindor, you better think carefully. It won't be long until the whole house becomes your enemy. Before you know it, you'll be all alone. No one will care for you because you'd be a filthy blood traitor" He whispered the last part so only Wood and I could hear that.

It took me a moment for his words to enter into my mind. When they did, I was speechless. No one had ever called me such a foul name. It was the biggest insult that's ever hit me in the face. It was a blow to my pride, my dignity – everything I was taught to uphold. Luckily – or unluckily, Wood stepped in between us and dangerously whispered, "If the lady doesn't want you near her, then I suggest you leave, _Flint." _

"Get out of my sight Marcus," I said barely above a whisper.

Marcus just stared at both of us, before reluctantly leaving us. When he was out of sight, the tension immediately lifted and the life of the courtyard resumed to its normal activities. I was still in shock at what just had taken place, and would not bring myself to believe that Marcus Flint, a wizard who supposedly cared for me, the man my mother wanted me to have a future with, called me a blood traitor. I knew I should have been happy because I managed to get rid of Marcus for the time being, but I wasn't. There was something in me that kept me from moving on.

Wood brought me to a nearby bench and we just sat there in silence. I knew he wanted to say something, but remained passive. I hadn't even realized that his hand was on my shoulder, supporting me, as if I were a fragile piece of glass. It wasn't until I heard Blaise calling me that I was brought back to reality. "Evie! Evie Edwards! Where the bloody hell are you?" she shouted down the corridors of Hogwarts.

This was my cue to leave, so without saying goodbye I walked away, leaving a somewhat stunned Oliver Wood behind.

* * *

"What happened between you and Marcus? He stormed into the common room muttering incoherent sentences. Something along the lines of Wood, you and a hitting someone with a bludger." Blaise inquired.

"He was being a complete arse. End of story," I said as a matter of fact. Blaise was about to say something but I continued ranting, "He thinks he can control my life. He treats me like an object. He says he cares for me, but he just cares for his own goddamn ego!"

"Well, you must admit he's a handsome egotistical bloke"

I raised my brow, "Since when did you start using words that were more that five letters long?"

She smirked, "I'm full of surprises."

I made a face and replied, "Right, like you and Montague."

"If you weren't so cooped up in your own life, you would have seen it coming."

Blaise's face, all of a sudden turned from being playfully innocent to amusingly inquisitorial. "Speaking of your life, my dear Evelyn, you and Wood seem to be getting close. Last time I checked, you were complaining about the proximity between you guys in Potions class."

"He happened to be there in the right time at the right place. I would have used anyone else-"

"But you used Wood."

"Why are you interrogating me?" I narrowed my eyes at Blaise. Eventually, she always got the answers she wanted. However right now, I didn't even know the answers myself. So I couldn't truthfully answer her. "Please, can we get to class?" I asked wanting to change the subject.

* * *

As we were walking towards the dungeons, I couldn't help but wonder why I become so much nicer towards Wood. Perhaps he was different from anyone I met, or perhaps I was slightly attracted to him. _No._ Definitely not. He was _the enemy._

As we neared our seats in Potions, Blaise whispered to me, "10 galleons says he'll ask for your help on the upcoming test."

"What makes you think he'll-" I couldn't finish my sentence because Snape walked in. So I quickly went to my seat and focused on my studies.

"For tomorrow I want an essay, 15 inches long on the dangers of the veritaserum potion. Furthermore, you'll be tested tomorrow on everything you have learned up until this point. So I _suggest_ you all study," Snape demanded from all of us. We all groaned; it was nearly impossible to do all that plus our other schoolwork from other classes by tomorrow. Our potions master silently walk to my table and glared at Wood. "Some more than others," he added and quickly left us.

I wasn't surprised at Snape assigning us so much work; not enough work in my opinion. I wondered what occupied his mind. It seemed lately his mind was elsewhere; not fully focused on his lessons. Most of the things we've learned so far was review from the year before. _Nevermind_, I thought. _It's not your place to think such things._

As Blaise and I were leaving class, Wood appeared beside us and asked, "May I have a moment with you Evelyn."

Raising my brow, I looked at Wood, then Blaise, then back to Wood. He sounded serious and I secretly wonder if it was about what happened earlier. On the other hand, Blaise looked quite amused; as if she knew something was up. Her face looked like a balloon ready to burst from laughter, so she quickly left and said, "I'll leave you two alone."

Silence passed and none of us said anything. All that was heard were the other Hogwarts students rushing about to attend their next classes. An occasional laughter, yell or remark could be heard, but nothing was spoken between us. Frustrated with the silence, I decided to start this inevitable conversation, "I haven't got all day. What do you want Wood? If it's about what happened earlier-"

"I wasn't going to ask about what happened in the courtyard. It's not my place to ask," he interrupted so quickly that I almost didn't understand what he was saying.

"Well, then what do you want?"

"Well… you see, I … I don't know how to put this," he started, while ruffling his hair. I merely rolled my eyes.

"You…what? You want to profess your undying love for me?" I joked. When he wasn't laughing, I held my tongue. For a moment, I thought I was right, judging from the reaction I got from him. However, I was soon proved wrong.

"I need help in Potions," he sort of blurted out. I closed my eyes and muttered a curse. Why does Blaise Zabini have to be right? I made a mental note of further inquiring her.

"Fine," I found myself replying.

He seemed quite shocked at my response, because his mouth was hanging open. I was surprised myself. I normally would have said no, if it were any other Gryffindor, or anyone else. Maybe I owed him something for helping me out early. I didn't know why I was doing this, I just knew I agreed to it.

We agreed to meet each other in the library tonight after dinner. As we parted our ways, Blaise met me at the end of the corridor with a very triumphant smile plastered on her face. "You owe me 10 galleons," she stated.

"Oh piss off. I never agreed to your little bet in the first place."

"Don't be such a sore loser. You know, to be honest, I think Wood fancies you."

I laughed heartily at her words. "Don't be ridiculous. He's just trying to get under my skin."

"We'll see," she said coolly.

I stopped in my tracks and turned towards her. I was about to ask her why she was so sure of herself, but no sound came out of my mouth. I really didn't want to know. Maybe I did, and was scared of the answer. I shut my mouth and kept walking.

* * *

In the common room, I plainly avoided the Quidditch team, who were discussing some plays for the upcoming game next week. I felt Marcus' gaze on my back as I was heading up towards my room. Before my foot even touched the stairs, he grabbed my wrist and made me turn around and face me.

All the confidence I had quickly vanished as his penetrating stare bore into my eyes. "Watch your proximity with Wood," he whispered in my ear. "For his sake."

Surprised that I kept my composure, I slowly replied, "Watch your proximity with me. For yours."

I turned around and walked to my room, not before hearing Marcus shout, "This isn't over!"

He was right. It was far from over. It was about time I started to take my life into my own hands. At this point, I didn't care what my house thought about me helping Oliver Wood in his studies. I didn't care about my mother, my reputation or Marcus. All that mattered to me at this very moment was the freedom – the freedom to choose my own fate.

* * *

**A/N:** **So hopefully these 3 chapters are a little better. I took out the whole grandmother thing. That was just plain weird. Honestly, I must have been on crack or something. And I hope I'm not trying to make Evelyn to Mary-Sue like-ish…I just wanted to portray her as a person whose not entirely happy with her life, but she doesn't see any hope to it, because she knows no hope. I also wanted to show the kind of relationship she has with Marcus. It's a love-hate thing; similar to an abusive relationship (not that she's in one!) – but the face that she can't get out, yet she knows she wants to. Yet at the same time, she doesn't want to because she's afraid of the unfamiliarity of independency….and that's where Oliver Wood comes in.  
Well, hopefully that gives you some insight. If you have a different opinion, feel free to share your opinions!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Ahhhhhh…writer's block. Lol_

* * *

This feels like an eternity. Merlin knows what I did in my past life to suffer this kind of torture. For the past…however long, I have been helping Wood – Merlin knows why – in his potions essay. Let's conclude one thing: the Gryffindor has no hope. I put my head down on the table, as the scribbling of Wood's quill had begun giving me a headache. 

The scribbling stopped, and I assumed Wood has stopped writing. Looking up, I noticed him curiously staring at me. In response, I raised an eyebrow, "What?"

The Gryffindor put his quill down, "If I'm wasting your time you can leave, you know."

I opened my mouth to agree, but quickly closed it. Logically, I knew he was being reasonable. Curfew was approaching and he knew that I was more of a thorn than actually helping him. However, my pride got the better of me. It was as if he was challenging me to lose this battle, to do the most Slytherin predictable thing. I, Evelyn Edwards never backed down from a challenged. _Never._ "I said I'd help you, Wood."

I looked down at his essay, and skimmed it through. I grimaced. It was hopeless! Wood must have sensed my discontent, as he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I must wonder, Wood, why would you be dumb enough to take NEWT-level potions, if you can't even write a decent essay?"

"Excuse me?" he whispered slowly. There I did it again. I managed to piss another person off because of my huge mouth.

Picking up the parchment and the quill, I began circling and scratching up Wood's sorry attempt for a Potions assignment. Now, normally I wouldn't go so far as to help a fellow student, let alone a Gryffindor. However, I felt compelled to help, but couldn't explain why. I threw the parchment across the desk, "See for yourself."

Wood looked at his essay, and rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. I merely smirked to prove my point. Shifting my body in the seat, I laid my elbows on the desk and rested my head on my hands. "See what I mean?" I said.

I loved being right, but I loved nothing more than proving Oliver Wood wrong. Bloody Gryffindor. Wood let out a huge sigh of frustration, "Thanks for stating the obvious, but you're suppose to be helping me, Evelyn."

I narrowed my eyes at the sound of my name; especially coming out of his mouth. Damn Wood, and his bloody accent. "I _am _helping you. Really, it's not my fault that you're incompetent," I said carelessly.

Silence followed. I noticed that Wood had stopped his excessive scribbling, "Honestly, can we have a civil conversation without you insulting me in some form or another?"

I scoffed, "In case you haven't noticed, I _am_ being civil."

"You call the constant insults being civil?"

"If I wasn't being civil, I wouldn't be here," I retorted.

Oliver returned to his sorry excuse of a potions assignment, while I suddenly took an interest in my nails. Inspecting them with great detail, I kept thinking why I had agreed to help Wood in the first place. Was it because of the sudden realization that I needed to control my own life? Or was it to piss of Marcus? Or maybe I was becoming too soft….

My mind then drifted to the dementors. A shiver went down my spine just thinking about them. Still, I couldn't help but wonder why on earth they would think Sirius Black would be hiding in Hogwarts.

Sirius Black; he never interested me. Though, I was a distant relative of his, as all pure-blooded families were somewhat intertwined with each other, I never gave his story a second glance. Not even his escape remotely interested me. Should I be scared? I would think not; I never met the man in my life.

My thoughts were interrupted, quite rudely might I add, by that bloody Gryffindor waving his hand in front of me. I narrowed my eyes at him, "If you want to keep your hand in time for the next quidditch game, you'd better stop doing that."

"Well, you wouldn't answer me."

I opened my mouth to insult him, but I decided against it. Why did I even bother to waste my breathe on him?

Instead, I stood up from my chair and started to head back to my common room. I wouldn't spend another second with this arrogant bloke.

"Where are you going?" he asked in that thick Scottish accent of his.

"Going to bed. It's stupid to think that _you_ could get a decent mark in potions."

Wood gave a rough sigh and blankly stared at me, "What about being civil?"

I smirked. "The day I choose to be civil with you, is the day Gryffindor wins the Quidditch cup."

_Which will be never,_ I secretly thought.

* * *

I kept my word for the next couple of weeks. Since the night in the library, I avoided talking to Oliver Wood. Whenever I passed by him in the halls, I merely kept walking and pretend he didn't exist. Potions became a nuisance in the beginning, but I soon got used to the routine where I would not look in his direction. 

Though, at times, I secretly looked over to see his marks – which always made my day.

It was second week of October before I knew it. The leaves had started to change colours, and the weather suddenly became chillier. Class had just ended, as students began piling the halls. Blaise and I were exiting the dungeons from Snape's class. We were casually talking about nonsensical things, when she suddenly brought up that bloody Gryffindor.

"Did you two lovebirds have a sudden fall-out?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, and made a mental note to have jinx her sometime later in the week. "Is it absolutely necessary for you to call us that?"

Blaise merely smiled and replied, "I just love provoking you. You know you look cute when you get mad."

I gave a loud sigh, and pulled her to the courtyard. "HEY! What are you-", she yelled as I yanked her down on an occupied bench. However, one glance at us made the first years quickly scampered away.

I looked at my Slytherin friend straight in the eye. "Now listen to me, Blaise Zabini. Oliver Wood and I will _never_ be more than just friends. In face, we will _never_ be friends. We are nothing. He's an arrogant fool, who can't make a decent potion if his life depended on it."

While I was ranting about Wood, Blaise, on the other hand, had her jaw slightly open. I rarely had outbursts like this, so it was a bit of a surprise to Blaise that I was practically scolding her.

"Fine, fine! I'll stop talking about him then? Happy?" I gave half a nod, and let out a huge sigh. Blaise looked over at me, and muttered under her breathe, "She sounds just like Marcus."

She didn't think I heard her. Merlin, was she wrong. "What did you just say?" I asked icily.

My Slytherin friend looked up innocently and began to laugh nervously. She knew I was getting mad; and when I got mad, hell would break loose. To compare _me_ to Marcus Flint! My supposed boyfriend – that was a complete insult! To think I was _anything_ like that arrogant quidditch obsessed fool who cares about nothing but his own ego.

"Look, don't take it the wrong way Evie. You and Flint are nothing alike…." She trailed off and said the next part so quietly; I couldn't even hear her despite the courtyard being practically empty. I was about to yell at her even more when the Slytherin Quidditch team coincidentally walked in the courtyard.

"Oh great," I muttered. For the time I had been avoiding Wood, I had also been trying to avoid Marcus as much as possible – though it was quite the challenge – ever since our little 'fight' at the beginning of the school year.

But I knew it was only a matter of time before I had to face him.

Marcus walked up to both Blaise and I. He looked at me with a look in his eyes I couldn't quite place, which made my stomach turn upside down. "Care to join me, Evie?" he asked.

I almost wanted to vomit. Since when did he become so…nice?

"Why?" I asked.

He brought his head close so close to my ear that his breathe sent a shiver down my spine. "I want you," he simply stated.

He backed away and return to the rest of the team, which was waiting for him not too far away.  
But his scent and his breathe still lingered near my neck, and suddenly I felt the urge to run up and kiss him. Though I should have hated his guts at that moment, something in his voice and his eyes made me get up from my bench and join him.

_Damn my hormones,_ I thought.

_Damn them to hell._

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5:**

I followed Marcus and the others to the quidditch pitch to watch them practice, where I spent the next hour or so dying in my own boredom. Play after play, I watched the team go over the same set of drills and maneuvers as Marcus constantly yelled and screamed for perfection.

"COME ON, LADIES! PICK UP THE PACE! WE WON'T BEAT GRYFFINDOR THAT WAY!"

"HURRY UP DRACO! DO YOU REALLY WANT POTTER TO WIN?!"

Sitting in the stands, I rolled my eyes at his sad attempt to captain his team. Although he wasn't the brightest student of his year, I had to admit – Marcus Flint was one bloody good quidditch player. A fair player? Maybe not.

Unconsciously, I began to observe one of Marcus' newer plays that he had devised over the summer, and I noticed a few flaws in it. First off, I noticed that the chasers were too far apart from each other, which increased the chances of the quaffle being intercepted. Secondly, I noticed that the beaters were just hitting the bludgers at random – there was no strategy.

I debated whether I should tell him, but then again, why would he listen to his supposed girlfriend? Merlin, at this moment, I do not like my life.

Just then, I hear Warrington yell, "Heads up Evie!"

I turned around just in time to see a quaffle heading straight towards me. Instinctively I put my hands in front of my face in a sad attempt to catch it. Surprisingly, I did – at a very painful cost. "Watch it Warrington!" I yelled, as I threw it back at him.

I sat back down and began massaging my hands. Bloody hell that hurt! Thank Merlin I'm not on the quidditch team.

"You're a natural," said a voice, with a very recognizable Scottish accent.

I turned my head around, and saw Wood standing in one of the towers so Marcus or the others didn't see him. "Excuse me?"

"I said, you're a natural," he repeated. "Have you ever considered joining the team?"

I let out a laugh, "Quidditch isn't my cup of tea."

My eyes turned to Draco Malfoy who was now doing some kind of drill in order to increase his speed, secretly hoping that Wood would drop the conversation and leave. But he persisted.

"Now why is that?"

I closed my eyes and let out a groan. "Why do you have to be so goddamn annoying?"

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"Why do you have to answer a question with a question?" I hissed.

Wood smirked, "You started it."

My eyes darted at him. If looks could kill, Wood would be dead at this instant. I got up and stormed my way over and push the insufferable Gryffindor in the tower beam. "Tell me Wood. What is it going to take for you to stop bothering me?"

Again, he smirked. "Well, I can't promise you anything, but you could answer my question."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

"Why you don't like Quidditch."

I opened my mouth, but quickly closed it. Did I really want to let Wood know one of my personal secrets that not even Marcus, or Blaise knew? But then again, if I did tell him, it would get him off my back.

I looked away and quietly responded, "I don't like flying."

Wood pretended not to hear, "Say that again."

Louder and more irritated, I repeated, "I have a fear of flying."

"Oh," he responded quietly. I assumed he found it hard to believe that I was afraid of anything at all. Well, I was afraid of many things. Flying, spiders…my mother.

Wanting to change the subject I asked, "What are you doing here anyways?"

Wood blinked his eyes quickly, and stumbled on his words, "Oh, well you see I forgot my playbook in the locker room." He waved a black notebook in the air, "I came to get it. It would be devastating if it fell into the wrong hands."

I looked at his face for a moment. I could see no laughter nor joy in him when he was talking about that silly little book. Who knew anybody could be so bloody damn serious about a broomstick and a ball?

I coldly smiled, "Well, then. I guess you should be going then. It'd be a shame for the Slytherin team to find you and wreck your pretty little face."

Wood once again smirked to my annoyance, "You think I'm handsome?"

I rolled my eyes. "Tell me, do you enjoy provoking me?" I angrily hissed back.

He gave a hearty laugh, which made my insides shiver. Suddenly, I began to feel the space between Wood and I grow closer, and I soon realized that our heads were about one inch away from each other. My breathe grew rigid and stiff, wondering if he was going to kiss me or not. His brown eyes captivated mine, and I couldn't pull away. I felt my head inching closer, when Marcus' voice cut through the air.

"Evie! Where are you?!"

I took this interruption to recollect myself and I jumped back from Wood. I suddenly realized what I had almost done. I, Evelyn Edwards had almost kissed a bloody Gryffindor! What in Merlin's name was I thinking?

_I wasn't thinking._

I began to make my way down to the locker rooms, but I had to clear things up first.

"Do not think you'll be able to pull that little stunt off again Oliver Wood, if you value your life."

* * *

Back in the common room, very few students remained awake. It was past midnight, which meant most first and second year students were fast asleep. There were only a handful of us left. Marcus and I had occupied the couch near the fire place, while Blaise and Warrington were huddled in a corner. Draco and his group of third years were across the room, thinking of Merlin knows what – most likely to do with Harry Potter, no doubt.

I was catching up on some reading that was assigned for Charms, while Marcus lazily played with my hair. I should still have been mad at him. I should still be giving him the silent treatment. Quite honestly, I should actually hate his guts…but I can't. For some strange reason, I felt compelled to give him another chance. It was as if every time I was about to end it, something always pulled me back…which makes me wonder if I'm under some curse.

The fire flickered, as I placed the book on the table and looked up to Marcus. He looked back down, smiled and proceeded to kiss me, which in turn became filled with desire. But I resisted.

_I needed to resist._ I couldn't give into it. _I wouldn't._

Yet, somehow, I always did.

At times like these, I really hated myself. I hated myself for being so weak. But I knew I wanted the attention; I wanted to feel something. So I began to desperately search for something that I knew I could never find.

Our lips parted breathlessly; no words were exchanged. No words _needed_ to be exchanged. He knew I was his to keep. But I wanted security. Foolishly, like a love-sick girl, I whispered, "Come to Hogsmeade with me."

Within a heartbeat, his body tensed and expression changed. "You know I can't Evie. Our quidditch game is in 2 weeks, and we're far from ready."

"Quidditch?" I answered knowingly. Bloody quidditch. It's always quidditch.

"You want us to win, don't you?"

I hesitantly smiled. "Of course. Nothing's more important."

Foolish Evelyn. _Foolish, foolish_ _Evie._

* * *

It was noticeably chilly on the day the Hogwarts students went to Hogsmeade. I ended wearing a nice warm scarf my grandmother knit me, and a thick green sweater. There wasn't much to do in Hogsmeade. Marcus had kept the quidditch team back, so they could practice. Blaise was complaining about the cold this morning, which meant she had no interest in going. So here I am, walking along this pathetic street of shops by myself.

I was not having fun at all.

I was angry. Angry at myself, angry at Blaise and angry at Marcus. I think I need to vent out some frustration. Oh, where was Malfoy when you needed him?

Suddenly, I saw the Weasley twins, Angelina Johnson and two other girls coming out of Zonko's Joke Shop with a bag full of Merlin knows what. I froze in my spot, merely staring at them, when a lightbulb went off.

Smiling to myself, I confidently strode over to the Gryffindors. Angelina was the first to notice me, judging from the death stare she was giving me. I guess she still hadn't forgotten our little encounter when school started.

"What do you want, _snake._" She made sure to emphasize that last word, because she knew I hated it. She was right. I want to explode on her, but instead clenched my fists and stiffened my jaw. I'll show some humility to her – I can't be predictable.

I smiled back at her, "Who said I wanted anything to do with you?"

I turned to the twins, "I'm here for you two"

The Weasley boys raised their eyebrows in surprise. If I were in their shoes, I'd be too. It wasn't everyday that a Slytherin would willingly go over to a bunch of Gryffindors to make a civil conversation. I grabbed their scarves and pulled them away, leaving behind the girls slightly dumbfounded.

"Oiy! Watch it now! You'll going to break our newfound purchases!" said Fred…or was it George?

I pulled the two redheads into the alley, and went straight to business.

"First off, if you tell any living soul that I came to you for help, you'd best say your goodbyes to your mother. Secondly, there are no negotiations. You either take the offer, or I'll find someone else who'll do it. Thirdly, -"

"Slow down, Edwards! What the bloody hell do you want with us?" asked George…or was it Fred?

Wait a minute, how do they know my name? Oh yes, Oliver Wood, no doubt.

I took a step back, and began pacing in front of them, with my hands clasped behind my back. How did I want to put this without trying to sound…desperate?

"Well….?"

"Oh I'm getting to it! Honestly, you two sound just like Percy." I snapped.

"Oiy! We resent that!"

"Yea, we're nothing like our brother. He's well, you know…"

"…boring" said the other. The twins looked at each other, nodded and folded their arms in agreement.

I looked at one of them, then to the other, and chuckled outloud. "You two are _highly _entertaining. But honestly, back to why I dragged you two away from your girlfriends. Now, I know we've had our differences, but I don't see why some…_monetary_ incentives couldn't put our past behind us."

The boys eyed each other, and narrowed their eyes at me, "What monetary incentives are you suggesting?"

"Oh nothing that you two couldn't handle," I said nonchalantly. "I just need you to make Marcus Flint look like a complete fool in front of everybody."

I looked back at the twins to made sure they understood what I wanted them to do. My guess was they did, judging by their slightly aghast expressions. They blinked very quickly a few times. "You want us to hex your boyfriend? One of your own?"

"To put it plainly, yes. I want you hex him, and _more._" I wanted Marcus to know I was not some stupid silly girl.

"And just how much are we talking here?" asked George…no, Fred…no, I'm pretty sure it was George…or…oh never mind.

"I'll give you 5 galleons now. Another 10, when you get the job done."

"What about te-"

"I told you, no negotiations. If you don't want the pleasure of making a rival Slytherin squirm, then I can find some bloody Hufflepuff to do it."

"Oh very well." One of the twins stuck out his hand to finalize our little deal. I shook his hand and gave him the first half of the money.

I smiled to myself. This was going to fun. _Bloody fantastic fun_.

The twins practically ran back to the awaiting girls with glee. I remained in the alley, watching them, hoping they wouldn't break our agreement. I could see Angelina trying to pry some information from Fred (at least, I think that's him). I could see her head turns towards the alley and give me death glares. But I didn't care at that point. He wasn't going to tell her anything.

I suddenly felt powerful, and felt a twitch of happiness jump up my throat. I started walking to the Three Broomsticks to celebrate my cheerful mood. Unfortunately, my new mood left me oblivious to my surroundings, that I had not noticed Oliver Wood suddenly walking next to me.

"Now I must wonder, what are you smiling about?" asked a _very_ familiar Scottish accent. I didn't even need to turn my head to know who that was.

I cast my eyes sideways and smirked, "None of your business, Wood."

"Oh I believe it's my business when you pull away my beaters to an alleyway."

I stopped in my tracks and turned towards him. "You think I tried to snog them?" I asked disbelievingly.

He chuckled in response. "To be honest, I never thought of you as one of _those_ type of girls."

I opened my mouth to yell at him more, but couldn't find anything to say. Really? He didn't think of me in that way? Almost all Slytherin girls were somewhat promiscuous….

"And pray tell, Wood. What type of girl am I?"

Without breaking his stare, he reached and his hand grazed my hair ever so slightly. I, of course, was perplexed at his actions. Though deep down, I knew what was happening.

"You had something in your hair." He simply said. He started to walk away, but I wasn't going to let this go so easily.

I jogged lightly, closing the distance between us. "You never answered my question," I yelled breathlessly.

Wood continued walking, and muttered inaudibly.

"I'm sorry. Say that again," echoing one of our past encounters.

He abruptly stopped, "Do you enjoy provoking me?"

"Just answer my question: What type of girl am I?"

He let out a huge sigh, "You're not one of _them_. You're far better than them." The latter part was said so quietly, it was difficult to catch it. But I did, and my reaction, to say the least was shocked. I wanted a better answer. I was about to ask Wood to clarify what he said, but he was already running off back to the castle, leaving me in the middle of the road slightly dumbfounded.

_You're far better than them._ What the hell did that bloody mean?

I couldn't let Oliver Wood dampen my spirits though. I headed back to the village to finish my celebration.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own characters.**

**Chapter 6:**

Today is a beautiful day. No, not just beautiful. It's absolutely gorgeous; it's absolutely perfect. Why? Because I've never felt so bloody happy. I've been walking around with a smile plastered on my face. I might have looked a little insane to some first and second years, but I don't care. Nothing could ruin this day. _Nothing. _

On my way to Potions class, I caught up with Blaise, whom I haven't seen in the past few days. _Probably snogging Montague_.

"My, my. Don't you look happy today," she inquired.

"That's because I am happy."

"What? Happy that your boyfriend ended up in the hospital wing?"

"Of course not! What happened to him is quite devastating. I'm happy..because..well, just because."

Blaise gave me a skeptical look, but chose to further comment. In truth, I was happy partially because Marcus was admitted to the hospital wing with a bad case of boils and enlarged teeth. And that wasn't the worst of it. I must admit, the Weasleys did an excellent job.

Wood seemed to notice my mood in Potions class. "What's gotten you so happy about?"

Ever since that incident in Hogsmeade, Wood seemed a little distance. Well, we were never close to begin with. But, he stopped the constant questioning and I found myself missing our bickering conversations. Why? Because they made my day _un-boring_.

I merely smirked at the Gryffindor, "Well, wouldn't you like to know."

He wrinkled his brows in response, "I couldn't imagine it'd be about Marcus would it? No…you couldn't be happy about his current state. But then again, you two aren't exactly the _perfect_ couple…."

There he goes. For some reason, Wood never manages to say the right thing. But, it always had some truth to it. I opted to yell at him. But, no. Today is a beautiful day, and _nothing_ would dampen my moods.

"Well, _thank you_ for stating the obvious, Wood. But I'm in this cheery for another reason."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

"Because today is a beautiful day. An bloody gorgeous day." And I did something shocking. I actually, genuinely smiled at him.

"You should do that more often, you know."

"Do what?"

"Smile. It really does brighten up the whole room."

I looked at him to check if I had just imagined what he said. Wood was busy writing something on his parchment, acting like nothing happened. It was my turn to scratch my head in confusion.

What's up with him lately? The past few days, he's been so…sentimental.

_Never mind Evelyn, you're in too much of a happy mood to think of such things._

* * *

When class ended, I decided to pay Marcus a visit. I wouldn't give it a second thought that his current condition could only make me happier. _He deserved it_. Bloody bloke. 

Walking into the hospital wing, I spotted him in the far left corner of the room. I noticed there were two other students lying in bed. One looked like he had a broken arm, and the other look like he was missing an ear…or two. Approaching Marcus, I found it increasingly difficult to smile at him. First, his grotesque appearance, made me want to hurl my lunch. Secondly, I actually didn't want to be here, but figured I _should_, because as his girlfriend, I was expected to. Thirdly, he looked absolutely terrible. Those Weasley twins sure took my words quite liberally…to say the least.

"How are you feeling today?"

His response was quite muffled, due to his half swollen mouth, "How do you _think_ I feel?"

I narrowed my eyes, "Well if you want to spend the rest of the afternoon by your poor miserable self, then _fine._ I've got better things to do."

I started to make my way back to the common room, but Marcus grabbed my hand to stop me. "Please, stay. I'm sor-, I'm sorry. It's been a terrible week. Just look at me! I'm a total wreck! And Madam Pomfrey says I can't leave for another week or so!"

I suddenly started to pity his current state. Maybe the twins went a little _too_ far. I sat back down and attempted comfort him – though it was hard, considering I'm the reason he was here, "There, there. It could have been a lot worse…"

"When I get out of here, I'm going to _kill_ whoever did this to me."

"You mean, you don't know who did this to you?" I was never interested in what the Weasley's had up their sleeves. I just wanted to see the end results. My only request was that they do it while I was not present, for fear I might blow my own cover.

"One minute, I'm in the showers after quidditch practise, and the next thing I know, I'm growing boils all over my skin! And that was just the beginning of it. Quidditch! The team will be so far behind! We won't be ready for the game against Gryffindor!"

"Is that all you think about?" I asked accusingly.

"What?"

"Every time I try to have a conversation with you, every time I'm with you, it's always about quidditch!"

"Because it's what I'm good at! It's what I look forward to everyday. It's what I plan to do with my life! You wouldn't understand; we're nothing alike. You have your bloody books, and I have quidditch."

I looked at his disfigured face and came to a realization. "You're right. I don't think ever will understand."

I stood up and started to walk away from Marcus. _I need to walk away for good._ _No more second chances._

"Where are you going, Evie?"

"Finding someone who does understand me. I can't help but wonder that there's more to life than just you, my family, my morals…I want to live a little, Marcus, don't you understand? I want to be happy."

"So you walk away from me, is that it?"

"Yes."

He scoffed and laughed outloud, "You'll come back. You always do. And who are you going to go to? Wood? That bloody Gryffindor has so many other girls to choose from, he wouldn't even take a second glance at you. I'm the best that you've got."

I slightly shook my head in disbelief, "You're wrong."

As I made my way to the doorway, I turned my head over my shoulder, "I'll prove you wrong."

It was definitely a beautiful day. A beautiful, gorgeous day.

* * *

In order to make a point, I went looking for Oliver Wood. My most obvious guess was the quidditch pitch. Walking through the courtyard, I was startled to suddenly hear an excruciating sobbing and wailing. I turned towards the sound, and found Draco Malfoy crying like a little girl accompanied by Hagrid. 

"What happened to you?" I looked up at Hagrid, who was trying to stumble out an explanation, and than back to Draco, who was _clearly_ faking the amount of pain he was in.

"I was attacked! It was horrible. Bloody hippogriff attacked me, and I didn't even do anything! Wait until my father hears about this. He'll have you fired! You here that!"

Hagrid looked worried. I would be too, if I was in his position. Poor oaf; I almost pity him.

"Oh shut it, Malfoy. It doesn't even look broken." I grabbed his wrist to prove my point. Malfoy, naturally, screamed in agony – much to my entertainment. Merlin, what the hell, why not put a little more pressure.

One could have mistaken him for a banshee.

I looked at Hagrid and gave a knowing, sympathetic look, "Best go the hospital wing, Hagrid. Doesn't look good at all."

He snapped out of confusion, and started leading Draco to the hospital wing, "…Err, right. Off you go now Malfoy. No use crying spilt milk over it. It's just a scratch. Nothing Madam Pomfrey can't fix…"

I watched the two disappear around the corner, and laughed at them. Though Draco would always put up a tough face, deep down, he was just a scared little boy.

I walked to the to the quidditch pitch, and began to walk around the locker rooms to see if anybody was there.

Wait a minute.

Why was I looking for Wood, in the first place? Oh great Evelyn, you're going to look like a fool, when you do find him.

Opening one of the doors, I found myself in the captain's office, in which I found it to be unlocked. I found it intriguing to say the least, that the room was surprisingly big. There were diagrams of different plays and maneuvers all over the walls, papers all over the desk. In all honesty, the place was a complete mess. I walked around the desk, grazing my fingers over the various plays when it landed on an oddly familiar black notebook. Picking it up, I flipped through the pages to find more plays and maneuvers, and notes. So, this was the great Gryffindor captain's key to success. I was about to put it down when something caught my eye. It was a page of notes, that didn't look like it was quidditch-related. Skimming quickly, I stopped at a page to find a sketch of a girl that looked oddly familiar. It was a rough sketch, mostly lines that one could barely make out what it was. But it was there. The girl was sitting on a bench, staring at something, or someone. She looked almost...angelic.

Hmm, I didn't know Oliver Wood was an artist.

"What are you doing?"

The voice caught me off guard, that I dropped the book on the floor. I looked up to see a _very _suspicious Gryffindor captain. It actually frightened me to see Wood looking at me like that.

"I was just looki-"

"Looking for what? My notebook?" He stormed to me and grabbed it out of my hands when I picked it up from the floor. "Tell me, did your boyfriend put you up to this? Is the Slytherin team really that desperate to win, that they're willing to _steal?_"

"Hold on, you've got it all wrong," I tried to explain. But Wood kept cutting me off.

"I've got it wrong? Then why it Merlin's name would you be here? You seem hardly the type to go snooping around other people's things. Maybe I was wrong about you. I thought you were different, but maybe you're just like _them_."

Something snapped inside of me. "_Excuse me?_ Don't act like you think you've gotten me figured all out. You don't know the first thing about me. I'm here because I came looking for you, and I just happened to find this room unlocked. It wasn't my intention to come here and steal your belongings. I'm not some dirty slug, Oliver Wood. But since you now think I'm like every other Slytherin, then maybe you should be a little more careful next time."

I stormed off in anger, deliberately bumping shoulders into him. And to think, I almost became civil with him!

_Men. _They're all the same. Insufferable, arrogant and stubborn. Why do I even bother?

Suddenly, I felt an arm pull me back, which caused me to turn around and face the insufferable Oliver Wood.

"What do you want with me now? To tell me what a snake I am?" I hissed.

"Look, I'm sorry I overreacted. I get nervous when people look through my playbook," he said solemnly.

"Well, it didn't give you any right to yell at me, and to _accuse_ me." Who cares if the bloke was apologizing. I was fuming, and I needed to vent my frustration. "And just because I"ve been placed into Slytherin, doesn't give you the right to generalize what type of character I am. You know, not everybody in my house is out to make everyone's life completely miserable!"

Keyword: _completely. _Who was to say we couldn't have a little fun once in a while.

Wood, on the other hand looked really guilty. "I'm sorry, really. It was wrong for me to say those things about you, because I know you're not like that. "

Not hearing his apology, I continued to vent my anger, "You know, you don't even know anything about me, Wood. You're all the same; you think you can push me around, and tell me what I can or cannot do!"

"How do you know what type of person I'm like?"

"You're no different then the other boys in Hogwarts. You don't think with your head."

I took a deep breath to calm myself down. I had promised myself nothing would ruin this day, and I intended to keep that promise. So to keep myself from exploding, I turned my back to Wood, and, once again, began to head back to the castle.

"I'm not like that, you know!" he yelled in the distance.

I kept walking, not wanting him to know I heard him. But I did.

I smiled. "Prove it," I whispered to myself.

* * *

Back in the common room, I noticed that most of the Slytherin team, with the exception of Marcus and Draco, were in complete uproar. There were sheets everywhere. There were things being thrown across the room, and voices, very _loud_ voices. Montague and Warrington had tried to subdue the team – with very, _very_ little success. 

"Everybody, listen up! With Marcus in the wing, we need to practice extra hard! Just because our cap-"

"What the hell are we suppose to do now?" yelled Terrence Higgs.

"Yea, we won't be ready in time for the game! We're down a chaser AND a seeker!" yelled another team member.

"IF EVERYBODY WOULD JUST SHUT UP!" yelled Montague at the top of his lungs.

I rolled my eyes. _Boys._ They can do nothing right. Not wanting to involve myself in the current fiasco, I tried to make my way up to my room without being noticed.

Unfortunately, that miserably failed.

I was halfway up the stairs, when Montague noticed me. "Edwards!" he yelled.

I cringed at his voice. I really didn't want to talk about quidditch, or Marcus, for that matter. I just wanted to be left alone.

Turning around, I sarcastically smiled, "What?"

"Come over here." He demanded.

I folded my arms, and sneered at him, "You know, I'm not some pet you can order around."

"Marcus does it," he stated boldly.

I was ready to _pounce_ on him. If looks could kill, Montague was a dead man. I walked down the stairs and marched straight over to him.

"Say that again, " I hissed, "I dare you."

He nervously laughed, "Evie, calm down. I was only joking with you."

"Oh, it didn't sounded like you were joking. I'll let you kno-"

"Well that you're here, I need to ask you something," he said, in hopes of changing the subject.

I decided to let it go for now, for the sake of not having the whole house witness a battle of words between us. Though, I made a mental note in my mind to deal with Montague later.

"What's your take on Marcus and Malfoy's condition?"

I looked at him in confusion. "Why would you ask me that? You can go to the hospital wing yourself and make your own judgment."

"Madam Pomfrey is forbidding visitors at this time. And you're the only one who saw Draco since his accident today."

Ah yes. How could I forget Draco wailing like a 4-year-old girl?

I looked at Montague. Then to Warrington. My eyes drifted to the rest of the team. They all looked like eager little boys, waiting for Santa Clause. It was quite an amusing site.

I sighed, "They both aren't in any condition to play. Draco, especially. He was in _terrible_ pain, when I saw him in the courtyard."

"I knew it!" yelled Higgs "We're not going to be ready in time! The game's in 2 days!"

Suddenly being ignored, the quidditch team resumed to their…_loudness._

_Boys, _I thought. They were all the same.

Leaving them to their quidditch dilemma, I quietly headed back to my room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

I don't know why I did it. I don't know why I helped _him_. That unbearable bloody bloke, who dared to insult me. That bloody Gryffindor who dared to challenge my pride. I don't know why I helped him, but I did.

After the yelling match in the common room between Montague, Warrington and the other team members, I learned they had cleverly decided to ask Snape to forfeit from the game, due to their "indispensable players" (as Montague, shrewdly put it). I personally thought they wanted to avoid a match during the horrid thunderstorm that decided to show up this weekend.

The point was this: Slytherin was out of the game, and Hufflepuff was scheduled to play again Gryffindor.

The game was less than 24 hours away. In my opinion, it was _the_ Slytherin way to back out of a unfavourable situation. Marcus and Draco just become the perfect opportunity.

I learned the updated news during breakfast, when Montague, and the rest of the team came in very quietly, with a very satisfied look on their faces.

"Don't you dare say anything to _anyone_, Evie." Warned Montague. Personally, I've never seen him so dead serious.

"Don't worry, " I assured him, "I don't have any reason to tell anybody."

"I'm serious, Evelyn." That was an indication he meant business. Montague never used my full name unless he was seriously, seriously ticked off. He's only ever called me by my full name once, and that was when I snitched on his nightly escapades to meet his fling at the time. Why I turned him in? Because he called me a 'silly weakling excuse for a girl'.

"Marcus has told me about your recent acquaintance with Wood. Don't you go squealing to him, Evelyn Edwards. He'll learn on his own time."

"First off, Montague, what I do in my personal time is _none_ of your business. Secondly, there's no reason to tell Wood in advance. I see no personal gain to it." I replied coolly.

Yet, I felt guilty. I was irritated by the sudden unfairness of it all. I really _really_ hated this feeling.  
Something was definitely wrong with me.

Having a sudden loss of appetite, I left the Great hall to think upon my recent revelation.

* * *

I aimlessly walked around for a good half an hour, thinking on the sudden appearance of my conscience. This shouldn't have been big deal, yet I couldn't get it off my mind. So what if Slytherin all of a sudden backed off? Why should I care what Oliver Wood would think?  
Sure, he'd be devastated as his practices would have been all for nothing. It was plainly obvious that the Slytherins played a different game than Hufflepuff. He'd also think we were a bunch a cheaters. Hell, he'd probably think I would have something to do with it.

Oh bugger. That wasn't good at all. I didn't want Oliver Wood to be mad at me. I didn't want him to think I was like _them._

Feeling frustrated with myself, I stepped into the courtyard, despite the pouring rain and took a seat on the bench, in hopes of calming myself down.

Geez, what a brilliant solution, Evelyn. Not only are you going mental, you are now soaked to the bone.

Not knowing what else to do, I did the only thing I could think of.

I screamed.

Very loudly…which scared just about everybody away from the courtyard. I didn't care if they thought I was crazy. I'm beginning to think I was going crazy.

Curse that Oliver Wood. Why must he always pop up in my mind?

"What on Merlin's name are you doing out here?"

_That voice._ It always seems to spring out of nowhere. I didn't even have to look up to figure out who that was.

I groaned, "Go away Wood. The last thing I need is your nagging."

"Come back here Evelyn! You're going to get sick!"

Though he was yelling, I could barely hear him, because of the thunder and rain. I decided to ignore him. I wanted to tell him, but at the same time, I _knew_ I shouldn't. It wouldn't be right.

If I told him, what use would it make? He would eventually find out anyways. Merlin, why does this have to be so complicated?

I was suddenly aware that my shoulders were being violently shaken. I looked up to see a concerned Oliver Wood. He, like me, had also become drenched in the rain.

"Tell me, do you have a death wish?"

"_What?_ No! of course not."

"Then get out of the rain! You're going to get sick."

"Oh what do you care!"

I looked at him in the eyes. I could tell he wanted to say something, but he didn't. Secretly, I hoped he wouldn't comment, so I changed the subject. "Tell me Wood, how important is this quidditch match tomorrow?"

Startled by the sudden change in topic, he stumbled on his words, "what? Oh, um…it's bloody important. It's the first match to the season. I want a good start to the year, so we can win the cup."

I looked at him in a mixture of awe and disbelief. I _needed_ to understand. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why is _any _of that important? Why does quidditch matter to you?"

He let out a huge sigh, as if he was prepared to tell his life story. "I've known it all my life. I've been exposed to it all my life. It's my passion, it's the air I breathe. It's what I want to do with my life. And Gryffindor hasn't won the quidditch cup since Charlie Weasley left. It's my last year as captain. I want to leave a legacy for next year. I want to achieve something and make my years at Hogwarts memorable."

Silence followed. Nothing but the sound of rain and thunder could be heard. We were both in our contemplative states and both very wet. I was envious. I wish I had that kind of passion. I wish I had that kind of determination. Instead, I was a conniving, dishonourable, selfish, and pessimistic person who had no outlook on the future.

"Would you do _anything_ to achieve your dreams?" I asked curiously.

He let out a chuckle, "Yea, I would."

I laughed in disbelief, "I was right. You're the same as everyone else."

"What are you talking about?"

Yes, what was I talking about? I wasn't referring to everyone; I was referring to _him_.

"You and Marcus. You absolutely despise each other, yet you two are almost identical."

I half-expected him to cry out in protest. To compare his rival with him as being almost the same must have been an insult to him.

"I'm not surprised," he admitted casually. "We're both driven and passionate about quidditch. He'd make a good player, if he didn't cheat all the time. I guess that's the difference between us. Otherwise, I'd imagine us to be good teammates."

"You said you'd do anything to achieve your dreams? Doesn't that include cheating?"

He looked at me sternly. "I have my limits, Evelyn. I won't go breaking the rules, and play dirty. There's no honour to it."

"Honour?"

"Yes."

"And are you honourable?"

"I'd like to think I am."

Honour. It was a characteristic in my personality I certainly lacked. The real question was this: Did I want to change? Did I want to become a better person?"

"And what about you?"

"Oh? What?" I responded hastily.

"Are you honourable?"

"What do you think Wood? I've spent all my life with people who cheat and lie to get their way."

"It doesn't necessarily mean you're one of them. If you truly wanted to, you'd make yourself different from them. You have the choice. You shouldn't condemn yourself to a life someone else sets up for you," he said with complete sincerity. He looked me in the eyes, and I knew he was telling the truth.

His words hit me in the face. Was I considered one of them? Did I want to _be_ them? Thinking of the girls in my house made me want to hurl. All they cared about was their own vanity and wealth.

I suddenly knew what I wanted to do. More importantly, did I want to become my mother?

I looked up in the sky, letting the rain fall on my face. It was as if I was washing away my old self. I felt refreshed, despite being drenched and now feeling quite cold.

It was at this moment, where everything changed. It was this moment where I believed I could have the happiness I've always envied and longed for. This was my butterfly effect.

I ran into the castle, leaving one Gryffindor in the thunderstorm. I assumed he'd follow me, because I only ran to get shelter. As expected, he was running after me when I turned around.

I opened my mouth to say something, but quickly closed it. But I decided to turn around and leave.

"Evelyn, wait!"

Wood grabbed my wrist so I faced him. I looked up and found myself, once again, in a very _tight_ situation with him. He looked into my eyes and then to my lips, and traces his fingers down my jawline. His touch sent shivers down my neck.

_No._ I won't let this happen. It was his game, I convinced myself.

I turned my head slightly, and did what I came to do. I told him the news.

"You're not playing Slytherin tommorow."

That snapped him back to reality. "W-what? What are you talking about? Of course we are."

"With the captain in the hospital, and their seeker with a broken wrist? Montague backed out. You're playing Hufflepuff instead. I'd reckon you'll get the official news in the afternoon."

"Why are you telling me this," he asked suspsiciously.

And this is where my current predicament led me to. Why was I helping him? Secretly, I knew the answer – I just didn't want to admit it.

I shrugged, "Perhaps I don't see any honour in it."

I gave him a small smile, and left him to his thoughts.

* * *

Back in my room, Blaise gave me a skeptical look at my drenched self. "What happened to you?"

"An epiphany," I simply stated.

"Oh? Like what? That rain is water and gets you wet?"

I took a towel and began drying my hair. "I have come to realize that I'm not doomed to my fate. I don't have to accept my bleak future. I can change it. And I will."

She closed her book, and sat down near me, "And what your family? Or Marcus? What about that whole fear of being disowned?"

I paused. Oh, yes. I forgot about that. I looked at her and sighed. "I think it's time to stop being afraid. I'll never know until I try."

"Your recent revelation doesn't have to do anything with a certain Gryffindor, does it?" she inquired.

I threw my towel at her. "Mind your business, Blaise."

She laughed, "I'm just wondering. Honestly, who cares about in-house rivalries. Once we leave Hogwarts, we're all forced to work together. Besides, you can't choose who you love."

"What on earth? I don't love him! I barely know him."

"mmmhmm..", she mused. Then she began humming some awful cheery song.

But she was right about one thing. Who cares if he was a Gryffindor, or a Ravenclaw. In the end, none of that matter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

I feel sick.

But I also feel like my efforts were wasted. Seriously, why did I go through all that trouble telling Wood about what the Slytherin quidditch team did, when Wood didn't even win? I blame Harry Potter. I blame Cedric Diggory.

_Honour_. I blame Wood.

Now I'm being unreasonable. I really should blame the terrible weather, and the dementors. But, I think I'm entitled to irrationality. After all, I am who I am.

I personally didn't watch the game for two reasons. One: I had enough experience with rain. Two: I think I'm getting a cold.

My nose is stuffy. I can't smell anything. I can't breathe. I can't speak without sounding like a broken trumpet.

Seriously, I blame Wood for all this.

I started feeling light-headed last night, and found myself absolutely dizzy by the morning. Blaise, my dear, wonderful, _caring_ friend decided to leave me for the day, not wanting to catch my sickness. I could have killed her at that moment.

But, she's not one hundred percent self-centered. She apparently made Madame Pomfrey ask the house-elves to send me some relieving ailments. I was quite thankful for that.

So now I am lying in bed with tissues all over me, dying of utter boredom. The only relief of entertainment was when the house-elves appeared, and told me of Harry Potter falling from the sky during the quidditch game. The image I saw in my mind made me slightly better. Honestly, the boy is always getting into trouble.

I refuse to spend the rest of my day in bed. I looked out the window. It was still raining outside, but it seemed to have calmed down. At least, there wasn't anymore lightning and thunder.

I kicked the blanket off my body, and steadily put my feet onto the floor. My head felt heavy, and for a few moments my visions blurred. I walked over to my mirror to observe how horrible I currently looked.

It was quite horrible.

My hair looked like a bird's nest. My eyes were bloodshot. My nose was red. I brushed my hair, and put it in a bun, while I washed my face with water, in a sad attempt to make myself look slightly presentable. But, the more pathetic I looked, the better. I wanted Wood to feel guilty about my present situation. In my slightly deluded mind, I blamed him for my cold.

I really had myself to blame. But…no one has to know that.

The common room was quiet, as I walked down the stairs. Thank Merlin, for that. I probably would have exploded by the amount of noise it produces. There were a few fourth and very eager fifth years studying – no doubt for their O.W.L.S.

Now, If I was Wood, where would I be? Perhaps he was in the quidditch pitch, wallowing in self-misery. He could also be at the hospital wing, visiting his seeker. I silently wish he wasn't there, because that would mean being in the same room as Marcus.

Then I realized, he could be in his common room. I stopped walking. Then what was I suppose to do?

I turned around, deciding to look for Blaise. Then I suddenly realized she'd be probably snogging with Montague, and there was the small fact that she did not want to catch my cold. I suddenly felt very alone. Until this moment, I have come to realize that I don't have many friends. Well, that was to be expected. Slytherins didn't have many friends. We weren't suppose to – after all, we all lived by one common philosophy: Seize the opportunity, at _any_ cost.

My vision began to blur, and my head started pounding. Not wanting to move anymore, I did the only thing that felt remotely plausible at the time. I sat down.

In the middle of the corridor.

But, I didn't care if all of Hogwarts thought I was crazy. By now, I'm sure they thought I was as crazy as Bellatrix Lestrange. All I knew my head was pounding, and I suddenly felt nauseous. So I closed my eyes, desperately hoping for the pain to subside.

Then came the horrendous chain of sneezes that just wouldn't stop. Oh Merlin, someone kill me _now._ I'd rather face the dementors, Sirius Black, and Voldemort than endure anymore of this misery!

"I told you, you'd get sick."

_That voice._ That horrid, dreadful voice! I curse it! Without having to look up, I replied in one breath, "This is all your fault, Oliver Wood."

He chuckled, which made me even angrier. "How is it my fault? I didn't force you into the rain. If I remember correctly, I told you the complete opposite".

"Oh, do shut up! You're giving me a headache." I put my fingers to my temples and began to rub it in an attempt to ease the pain.

My eyes were still shut, and I heard him scuffle a bit. "Come on", he said. "Lets get you up."

"Where are you taking me?"

"To Madame Pomfrey"

My eyes darted open. In my head, it screamed _no! You don't want Marcus Flint to see you with Oliver Wood!_ But I remember that we were no longer together. Besides, it would give me great pleasure to see him fuming when he saw me with his mortal enemy. After a moment of hesitation, I let Wood lead me to the hospital wing, to which I was secretly thankful for. My eyes were still closed, and I was still sneezing. I was so caught up in my disgusting self, I failed to notice that we were holding hands. But really, in the grand scheme of things right now, did I care?

Of course not. I was focused on my stuffy red nose. "Here we are," I head him say. "Get on that bed, I'll go get Madam Pomfrey."

I felt relieved to sit on something warm and soft, that I immediately lied down – which didn't really improve my situation all that much. With nothing to do but wait, I bitterly muttered, "Oh Merlin, kill me now."

That was when I head _him._ I heard him chuckle. I instantly recognized whose voice laugh that belonged to. I inwardly groaned. I suddenly felt embarrassed by my appearance, but I convinced myself not to care. After all, he was in a worse condition than me.

"Shut it, Marcus."

"Well, well, well. If it isn't dear Evie Edwards. Not so damn confident now, are you?"

I peered one-eyed open. Marcus still had boil all over his face, though his teeth were starting to shrink back in size. Confidence? How dare he insult something I actually take pride in?

"I wouldn't talk, Marcus. With your current appearance, I do wonder sometimes if it does damage your male ego. No more girls swooning over you. No more quidditch. Really, you shouldn't be questioning my self-esteem issues."

"Well, at least I don't have to degrade myself to such a pathetic appearance to seek the attention of a bloody Gryffindor."

"Then it means that certain Gryffindor doesn't judge on appearances, unlike _some_ people I know." I venomously hissed back.

He didn't say anything afterwards, much to my relief. To say the least, it gave me a confidence boost. I then heard heels clicking on the floor, and assumed it was Madame Pomfrey. I sat upright, and saw her carrying a very, very, very suspicious looking concoction in her hand. It was steaming, an orange-brown colour and the smell was nauseating.

"Ms. Zabini told me of that you weren't feeling well, but I didn't think it was this bad." She handed me what I immediately nicknamed the 'drink of death'. "Here, drink this, then go back to your room and sleep it off for the rest of the day, as it does make you drowsy. You'll be back on your feet by the morning."

I immediately protested, "Really, Madame Pomfrey. I don't need to take that. I'm feeling fine already. Seriously, Wood is just overreacting."

I made to get up, but suddenly felt very dizzy. Then came the sneezes again.

Madame Pomfrey practically forced the cup in my hand. She turned to Wood, and sternly said, "Make sure she drinks it, Mr. Wood."

Wood gave her a curt nod, and she walked away. As soon as she turned her back towards me, I put the disgusting concoction on the table and made my way out.

I didn't get very far though. As soon as I got up, a wave of sneezes and cough came out.

Honestly, someone kill me now. Or let me kill someone to make myself feel better.

"Oiy! Where do you think you're going?" Wood yelled after me.

_If I don't see him, he doesn't exist,_ I thought. I shut my eyes and covered my ears with my hands and continued walked out of the room.

Actually, I really wobbled out.

"Evelyn! Wait up!" I heard in the distance.

Does that voice ever shut up? Silently I muttered, "Shut up, shut up, shut up."

I couldn't take it anymore. The headache was so painful, I couldn't even think coherently anymore. I suddenly forgot where I was going.

_Where are you going, Evie?_ I said to myself.

Nowhere. I had nowhere to go to. I felt lost and weak.

So I sat down – in the middle of the corridor. Yet again

I heard his footsteps in the distance. Seriously, should I be flattered that Oliver Wood pays more attention to me than Marcus? Or should I be scared witless that he's practically stalking me?

Whatever. It honestly hurts too much to think.

He wasn't that far behind me, because I heard him sit down beside me in a short amount of time.

"What do you think you're doing Evelyn? Are you trying to kill yourself?" He said with a hint of anger and concern.

"What do you care if I die or not?" I replied, which came out with a fit of sneezes.

I heard him mutter something, but couldn't hear him due to the never-ending pain of misery I was enduring.

A moment of silent followed. I was wallowing in my own misery of physical and emotional pain. And Wood? Merlin knows what was going through his mind.

"I feel alone," I suddenly blurted out.

That seemed to snap both of us out of our state of minds. "Why would you think that?" he asked.

"I have no one. Just look at me! I'm almost dying here and I should have friends that should be taking care of me. But here I am, sitting on a floor talking to _you._"

I didn't mean to emphasize the last word, but it just came out like that.

"You don't think of us as friends?"

I laughed out loud…which turned into a heaving cough.

"What earth have you been living on Oliver Wood? Since when have we ever been friends? We may have had a few civil conversations. But trust me, we are far from what anyone calls friends."

"I thought you didn't want to be civil with me," he said, jogging my memory of our conversation in the library.

I gritted my teeth. He did it again. He managed to twist my words around and used it to his advantage.

"I'm not civil with you, Oliver Wood." I said firmly.

"Then what do you call this?"

It took a moment for me to find the right words. "Pity friendship."

"Pity friendship?" he hesitantly repeated.

"The only reason why I'm here talking to you is because we keep running into each other. The only reason why I talk to you has nothing to do with us being friends. You just happen to be there at the right time and place. I hardly call those circumstances friendship."

"Oh."

I knew it wasn't every nice. But to be honest, I could have said that ten times worse. But I needed to set up my boundaries. The words of Blaise Zabini were haunting me, and the last thing I wanted right now was to dig myself in a hole that I wouldn't be able to get out of.

I turned to look at him. His smiled disappeared and he was in lost in thought. I felt slightly satisfied that he got the message, but at the same time I felt a slight pang of guilt and regret for being so harsh.

He placed the bottle in my hand and got up. "Make sure you drink this before you sleep."

And just like that, he left me.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:

I distinctly remember that bloody concoction tasting like vomit. Yet despite the horrible taste, I was out like a baby, just as Madame Pomfrey predicted.

Now, I laid wide awake in my bed feeling _so_ much better. There was no headache, no sneezes, nothing. It was absolutely relieving to regain my ability to breathe without other substances coming out. Thank Merlin!

I looked up to see Blaise still sleeping, even though it was close to noon. I silently chuckled at her present appearance. With one leg hanging over the bed, the blankets in a huge ruffled mess, an arm covering her eyes, and her subtle yet very noticeable snoring…it was quite the sight. One thing's for sure, I can always count on Blaise to humour me.

As I got ready for the day, I couldn't help but be haunted by the harsh words I exchanged with Wood yesterday. Had I really called it _pity friendship?_ I cringed as the conversation echoed in my mind, as I imagined that look in his face. I couldn't quite wrap my head around it, but it almost looked like he was…hurt.

But what else was I suppose to call it? We weren't best friends. We weren't close friends. As a matter of fact, we weren't anything at all. As far as I knew, we had nothing in common. Every conversation we've had had always resorted to bickering and banter – which usually resulted in nothing.

How could _anyone_ call that friendship?

We were enemies. I took a huge breath. Yes, that was it. Oliver Wood and I were enemies.

But that didn't sound right. I let out a huge sigh. That was the old Evelyn talking. The old Evelyn wouldn't give a second thought about befriending someone from Gryffindor. She could have cared less if she hurt his feelings. On second thought, the old Evelyn would still be with Marcus.

No. I wasn't that person anymore. I held my head up high, knowing that I owed a certain Gryffindor an apology.

As I entered the common room, I noticed a small commotion happening around the fireplace. Taking a closer look, I scowled. It seemed that Madame Pomfrey had sent Marcus back. He was now the centre of attention by a bunch of fourth and fifth years – mostly girls. Judging from what I saw, it seemed that he was enjoying the attention.

As if he knew he was being stared at, he looked up and our eyes met. He had that bloody smirk plastered on his face. I narrowed my eyes at him. He was mocking me.

Two can play at that game.

* * *

I found Wood headed towards the quidditch pitch. Fortunately for me, his teammates weren't with him. I really didn't feel for another confrontation with Angelina Johnson. I could guess she wanted to rip me into pieces. I started to make my way towards him, but I stopped in my tracks. What was I suppose to say? _I'm sorry that I took for granted our friendship?_

Oh Merlin, that sounds _awful._

Maybe this was a bad idea, because clearly I don't know what to say. Turning around, I started to make my way back to the castle.

"Oiy there! Edwards!"

Fate hates me. I closed my eyes and cringed at the sound of my name. I turned towards the voice and spotted two red heads coming my way. Great. Where there are two red heads, the rest of the flock is usually with them.

In no time, the twins were within arms reach of me, and I suddenly felt almost overshadowed by them. Were they always this tall?

"I believe you owe us something," they said in unison.

I looked around to see if their friends were hiding, waiting to pounce on me. But I saw nothing. Instead I saw Wood looking at us from a distance.

Then I saw him walking towards us.

_Great._

I turned my attention to the twins. I looked to the right, then to the left. Was that Fred? Or George? Or maybe…

I shook my head. I will _never_ distinguish the two.

"You better not back out of this one, Edwards. You gave us your word."

"I said I'll pay you and I will. Unlike some of my Slytherin friends, I always mean what I say," I coolly replied.

"Well, no offense, but we can't –"

"-trust you."

"If you know what we mean."

"So we want –"

"our money –"

"now," they finished together.

"Is everything alright?" asked a voice. Well, it wasn't _a_ voice. It was _his_ voice.

Ignoring him, I reached in my cloak, pulled out a small black leather pouch and dropped it in one of the twin's hand. "10 galleons, as promised."

They opened the bag and counted the coins, making sure I hadn't broken our deal. Satisfied, they looked at one another and smiled. They turned to me and said, "Well Edwards, if at anytime you need our services again…."

"I'll seek you out. I promise."

And they walked away. Actually they practically skipped away.

"What was that about?" asked Wood.

I looked at him and tried to read him. Unfortunately he does a very fine job at masking his emotions. If he was offended by my comments last night, he didn't show it. "I was simply tying up loose ends."

He narrowed his eyes, "This…doesn't have to do with anything with Hogsmeade, does it?"

I confidently smiled at him, "Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't. I'm not at liberty to tell. And you can't pry it out of them. I made them swear an oath of silence."

He was about to say something, but closed his mouth. Whether he was confused, angry or indifferent, I couldn't tell.

A somewhat awkward silence followed. Well, it was awkward for me, so I looked at my feet and found them very interesting. But, I was trying to figure out a way to tell him I was sorry without making myself, well…seem sorry.

What can I say? I have a huge ego!

"Look," I started, "I'm –"

I looked up, to see him already walking away. I gritted my teeth. Here I was, ready to have my ego slightly bruised, and he was _walking away._ I hurried after him, "Where'd you think you're going?"

"I have to work on some quidditch plays," he replied without even stopping or looking at me.

I rolled my eyes, "Well, do you have a minute?"

He stopped and looked at me. It was a look of impatience. A cold, stoic look. I didn't like it at all. It wasn't the look he usually held. Usually it was a look of curiousity, sincerity and warmth. Right now…he reminded me, well…he reminded me of me.

I bit my lip. I was really bad at this. Who knew saying sorry took so much damn effort?

"Well?" he probed.

"Maybe…I was a little too…. harsh," I started slowly.

I wasn't too sure where I was going with this, but hey, it was a start. I looked at him to see if he was following. He was still looking at me, but his expression had somewhat softened, which I took as a good sign. So I continued, "and…so what I'm trying to say is…that, well…I don't know what I'm really trying to say. It's just that…maybe I was a little too mean to you. But what would you expect, I thought I was going to die yesterday! You'd be a little edgy too if you thought –"

"-Evelyn?"

"What?"

"You're babbling," he stated.

"Oh." Dammit! I feel like a complete loser right now. "Well then…I'll leave you to whatever you're doing."

I turned my back towards him, suddenly deciding I was hungry and wanted food. "Maybe it doesn't have to be such a pitiful friendship."

I slightly turned my head towards him, wondering what the Merlin he was talking about. He continued, "I mean, you said it yourself. We only talk because we happen to sit together in potion class, and the odd coincidences we bump into each other. You were right about that. But…if you were willing, I mean…if it doesn't appall you to befriend a sworn enemy of your house…then perhaps…it doesn't have to be so…pitiful."

I looked at him blankly and blindly blinked. Did I just hear what he said? He actually wanted to be friends with me? The words sounded so foreign coming out of his mouth. Evelyn Edwards, friends with Oliver Wood? A Slytherin becoming civil with a Gryffindor?

But then again, I'd be hypocritical to deny what was going on between us. It clearly wasn't a hostile tension. He _did_ take me to Madame Pomfrey, and I _did_ help him on his potions essay…maybe a friendship was probable.

"What's the catch, Wood? Trying to get to know me so I tell you all the dirty little Slytherin secrets?" I inquired. I wasn't a Slytherin for nothing. It was my nature to be skeptical and inquisitive.

He lightly chuckled. "There's no catch. I just want to get to know you, Evelyn. That's all. No fighting, no name calling, no threats. Just a simple friendship with civil conversations."

I still wasn't so convinced at the same time, I was intrigued. Once again, I looked into his eyes, trying to find some ulterior motive. What I saw was complete sincerity.

Friendship. It was something I definitely wasn't used to. Of course there was Blaise. But if came down to her life or mine? I didn't even have to blink to guess that one.

I gave Wood a small smile, "A friendship is possible Oliver Wood. But I can't guarantee about being civil with you. Last time I checked, Slytherin still has the house cup."

He chuckled, showing that he still remember the conversation we had in the library.

My stomach grumbled, making me realize that I _did_ need food. Saying goodbye, I headed back to the castle when I realized something else.

Marcus would turn the common room upside if he knew what I was doing. His now _ex_-girlfriend befriending the one person he hates the most. I smiled to myself.

It was perfect.

* * *

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	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

The weeks fly by quickly. Before I knew it, Christmas was fast approaching which was just about the only topic of conversation that occurred among most, if not all Hogwarts students. Dumbledore generally always gave a banquet stuffed with sweets and food, but though however enjoyable a simple Christmas feast would be, every Hogwarts students also looked forward to their own house parties later in the night.

Slytherin has had a long tradition of which the seventh years would host the big gathering, which usually consisted of a lot of butterbeer (and perhaps some firewhisky in the mix), sweets and a general rampage and war of pranks and jinxes against the other houses.

Unfortunately, every seventh year assumed some other seventh year would organize it.

Which meant _nothing_ was being done. The year-end feast was the day after tommorow and there was _nothing._ Merlin, it was a disaster. Our year would be remembered as the shameful year that couldn't organize a party.

This pathetic logical reasoning eventually led me standing in front of the Gryffindor common room entrance, waiting for 2 dimwitted redheads to appear.

I can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm asking the Weasleys for help…once again. Every Gryffindor who passed by me would give me cold and evil stares, secretly wondering if I was planting a bomb near their door. Seriously, if looks could kill, I would have been dead ten times over.

I swear by the life of Merlin, everybody in bloody Slytherin better bow down to my feet and serenade me with roses.

The door finally open after what felt like an eternity, and I immediately spotted a flash of red hair that nearly knocked me to the ground.

"Oiy!" yelled out Fred…or George, after catching his balance.

"What took you fools so long!" I yelled out impatiently.

"I didn't know you were expecting us Edwards," replied the other rather mischeviously

I shook my head in confusion. Not only did I waste half my morning waiting for the two world's dumbest blokes, but also now just speaking to them was starting to give me a headache. "Look, I did not skip breakfast to listen you two banter nor did I come here to throw some sort of insult at you. I need your help. In return, I'll pay you."

I paused and took a deep breathe. It came out in sort of a jumble, but I said it. Standing there right now, I felt my ego crashing down…fast.

I never thought the day would come that Evelyn Edwards would have to ask a Weasley for help. _Twice._

But then again, there were many unexpected turns I've encountered this year.

The twins narrowed their eyes in suspicion, but must have seen the slight desperation in my eyes.

Their expressions soften slightly. "How much?"

"Well, I need my goods delivered fast. I'm talking about 2 days fast. I need lots of them…enough to last the whole night. And I want top-quality. I don't want phony products that'll back fire. If that be, I'll fry both your arses before you can say Quidditch."

"We feel insulted – "

"that you think our products –"

"are crumpy. We did exceed your expectations last time, remember?"

I smirked. I will never forget the image of Marcus in the hospital wing. I know the Weasleys keep a stash of pranks and gadgets somewhere up their sleeves. Even Zonko's can't compare. Personally, I'd avoid this whole catastrophe and go to Hogsmeade. However, there wasn't going to be another trip until the next school term.

"I was _very_ satisfied last time. But I want your word. I want _the best._ And I'm willing to pay twenty galleons."

"What about twent-"

"Price is non-negotiable," I interjected quickly. Doing business with the enemy also meant trying to squeeze out every advantage. I would make sure they wouldn't do it to me. "I assure you gentlemen, I'm offering a very good price. I could buy the same amount at Zonko's for much less."

"But you'll wipe us clean!"

"Well then you have 20 galleons to re-stock yourselves," I coolly said. "Are we in business gentlemen?"

The looked at each other briefly, and gave a brief curt nod to one another. I inwardly smiled, already knowing the answer to my own question. We shook hands to seal the deal. "Meet us after dinner tomorrow night near the courtyard."

I watched them leave, while I was doing a victory dance in my head.

"What are you doing with my beaters now?" popped a voice from behind me.

I cringed. Not him again. Well, not that I was disappointed to see him. I was genuinely surprised at how much I warmed up to the Scottish Gryffindor, despite the many arguments we'd end up getting into. But most of them were pointless. Just the other day we began quarrelling over which was the best type of chocolate. Naturally I won, and it was decided that mint chocolate was the best kind.

"Didn't you know curiosity killed the cat, Wood?"

"Well this cat isn't afraid of death. Spill it Evelyn. This isn't the first time I've caught you in deep secrecy with them."

I looked at him to see if he was upset or offended. Instead I saw him attempting to make an intimidating face to which I burst out laughing. "Sorry Wood! My lips are sealed."

In an attempt to change the subject, I decided to ask him of his plans for the day. He smirked, and I could already guess what his answer would be. _Quidditch._ I rolled my eyes and scrunched my face to express the annoyance. "Is there anything else you do besides that bloody sport?"

I guess I might have said that too harshly. But I voice the truth! It's always quidditch, quidditch, quidditch!

"Well, what do you suggest I do today Evelyn?"

I could sense he wanted to say something else, but nothing more was said. "Well.." I began, "You could do something non-quidditch..ish."

"Like…?"

"Oh I don't know Oliver Wood! I'm not you," I said hastily. Why am I even talking to him? I have a whole party to plan and I'm running out of time!

"Ahh. Exactly. You're _not_ me. You don't know what my hobbies are. You don't understand. I love quidditch, and it's my dream to perfect the sport."

Oh Merlin, he did not just say that. That must have been the cheesiest remark I've heard so far. Even Marcus hasn't even said that. "Whatever, go play your little game. I've got better things to do."

"What's wrong Evelyn? You're quite moody today."

"Oh bugger off Wood. I'm hungry, I'm tired, I'm stressed! My feet ache from standing here all morning, waiting for those two redheads. After tomorrow night, I'll be twenty galleons short. On top of that, I have a whole Christmas party to plan, to which my whole house is counting on me to pull off. So yes, Oliver Wood. I'm slightly on edge today! And you're not helping one bit!

I turned to walk away, but his voice cut through my will to keep walking. "I could help you."

I blankly looked at him, and said nothing but blink. Did I just hear him correctly?

Reading my mind, he slowly repeated himself, "I was going to devise some quidditch plays today, but I suppose that can wait. Besides, you look like you need the help."

He must have been referring to my current state of appearance. I must have looked like a total wreck, and silently imagined myself looking like the Loch Ness monster. My hair was in the messiest ponytail, and I felt the loose strands coming out.

I slowly walked back to him, and jokingly walked around him in a circle. "You would want to help me plan a party for _Slytherin_? A party that you _know_ involves hexing your whole house? Are you asking for an early death?"

He shrugged his shoulders, "No one has to know."

"Doesn't Gryffindor have their own party to attend to?"

"It's never much of a party. Just Fred and George playing tricks on the first years, some present exchanges and story-telling. Besides, I haven't been in the Christmas mood as of late…with our less than stellar performance at quidditch so far."

My mouth proceeded to open to yell at him for bringing the q-word up again, but quickly closed it. I looked at Wood carefully and saw in his eyes that he was truly stressed about the whole game. I inwardly sighed. It must have been the fact that his seeker fell a hundred feet from the sky and that they lost their first game to Hufflepuff.

"Fine. You can tag along if you want to," I said in defeat.

This was already spelling D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R in my head - Oliver Wood and I running around the castle all day trying to plan a night's celebration for _his_ rival house. I could already picture the amount of confused faces.

Oh well.

I made my way back towards the stairs with Oliver Wood chasing my tail. As he caught up to me, he hastily asked, "What are you doing now?"

I felt my stomach growl and pitifully patted my stomach. "I'm going to eat."

* * *

Dusk was approaching and I was ready to go to bed. The day was a marginal success as Wood and I managed to prepare mostly everything. The only thing left were my business transaction with the Weasley Twins.

I must admit it – though I would never admit it out loud – but I don't think I could have done it without Wood. If it wasn't for him, I would have never found the secret entrance to the kitchens and thus would have never gotten the pastries and sweets ready. He also introduced me to some sixth year in Hufflepuff whose name I hadn't bother learning who had bottles of firewhisky that I managed to get.

Well, more like _take._ Actually…it was more like, taking _without permission._ I hadn't planned on asking the bugger to begin with. I already watched my ego bruise with the Weasley twins, I wasn't about to let it happen again. I laid in my bed, with my eyes closed and smiled to myself picturing myself and Oliver Wood running down the corridors while the nameless Hufflepuff had attempted to chase us down.

I must have dozed off for several minutes because I twitched abruptly when Blaise jumped on my bed and hovered over me. "How goes the party planning?" she said innocently.

I squirmed underneath her arms in a sad attempt to escape, knowing full well what she was up to. "It's going fine.," I sputtered out.

"Just _fine_?" she playfully suggested.

"Yes, no thanks to you though," I hissed at her.

She jumped off me and starting laughing while twirling a lock of her hair like a lovesick girl. "Well, according to what I hear, it looked more than just _fine._ According to some second years, they saw you and another male party in certain _red_ robes chasing each other outside the castle with custard and pastries all over your face."

If I tried to conceal a look of shock or surprise, I miserably failed. Blaise only smiled more at my indiscretion. It was true, at one point during our escapade, he had unsuccessfully tried to learn what pranks Slytherin was planning. Key word was _unsuccessfully._ The quidditch captain had unfortunately underestimated my throwing skills with a chocolate pumpkin cupcake, which had landed perfectly in the middle of his forehead. In retaliation, he smeared icing all over my face…and it became a game of food-tag.

"So it's true then!" she exclaimed.

"We threw food at each other. For all you know, it was a hostile food fight," I replied coolly.

She laughed again, "Oh yes, a fight to the death with icing and whipped cream. Well I think it's cute. I think you're really beginning to like him."

I turned towards her and said, "We're just friends." It felt weird to say, yet it made my stomach turn to hear myself acknowledge that Wood wasn't just a pity friend.

I got out of bed, now feeling very awake and started rummaging through my drawer to keep myself distracted.

"Just be careful Evie," Blaise said, "Wood seems like a good enough bloke, and you may not like to admit it, but I think he fancies you. And these things will get people talking…sometimes not in a good way. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

I narrowed my eyes at her, as I put a pouch of twenty galleons in my robes. "People like Slytherins?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "…Flint..Montague..Malfoy..Pansy Parkinson…it might give them reason to do _something._"

My shoulders slightly fell as the words sunk in. She was right at a certain level. I was playing with the rivalry between our houses. But I didn't care at the same time. I was tired of the whole game and rules we had to play- rules of social expectations and etiquette. I looked at Blaise and saw a genuinely concerned friend and I gave her a small smile of appreciation.

'They can _try_." 


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

Today, I was in a very irritable mood. Not only will I be another 20 galleons short, I suddenly realized that tomorrow night would be the last night before I had to head home for the holidays and eventually face the unavoidable subject of my future.

I thought myself quite successful at avoiding Marcus for the remainder of the term. It seemed like he had completely forgotten about me, though he was always quick to give me the occasional sneer whenever he saw me with Oliver.

I felt proud of myself. For once, I wasn't going back.

But the thought of going home and facing my mother's interrogation brought my confidence level to negative infinity.

I spotted the twins enter the courtyard, and pushed all thoughts about going home aside.

I dropped the pouch in one of the twins' hand. Whether it was Fred or George, I had given up trying to tell the two apart. Everything just seemed about ready, and I felt a wave of relief taken off my shoulders knowing that this year will be the best Christmas party yet.

Only because I planned it, and did a bloody good job at it too.

"I think you'll find our choice of pranks – "

"-to exceed your wildest dreams."

I looked at them with caution as I eyed the rather large sack of Weasley-made contraptions. I had the inkling feeling they might have added some devices that were meant to backfire on us. But honestly, it wouldn't be a party without some sort of pranking between houses.

I eyed them suspiciously, "Aren't you worried that these will be used against your house tomorrow night?"

They gave a knowing looking at one another, "We wouldn't expect anything less from you and your lot, Edwards. Besides, what makes you think – "

"- that we gave you our very best products?"

I smirked at them, feeling my Slytherin pride rising in my veins. "So, I take that as a challenge then? Be careful what you wish for boys. You're dealing with a Slytherin here."

"And you're dealing with the Weasley Twins," they said in unison.

They smiled triumphantly before scurrying away and whispering about Merlin knows what to each other. They had basically declared war on us tomorrow night, and I would make sure our house was prepared for it.

"Never really expected you to steep that low, Evie," a voice piped in.

I whipped my head around, and turned to see Marcus casually leaning against a column with a look of disgust on his face.

"Whatever are you talking about, Flint," I replied icily.

"Fraternizing with the enemy, Evelyn," he began as he made his way towards me. "It's bad enough you go gallantly running and laughing around with one Gryffindor, but now I see you acting all familiar with the _Weasleys_? Who the hell have you become?"

He stopped dangerously close to me, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself quivering. His words surprisingly stung. He made me sound soft and weak. What's worse was that he made me sound like a traitor. He grabbed my wrist to pull me close to him, and whispered, "What the hell are you trying to prove? Your little game for the past 4 months isn't going to the change the fact that you'll be going home to face mummy dearest, who we _both_ know has your best interest at heart."

I wrestled myself out of his hands and yelled back, "Why do hell do you care? So what if I like the Gryffindors? So what if I like spending time with Wood? He actually sees me more than just a piece of meat. What I do with my life, Marcus Flint has nothing to do with you!"

"It has everything to do with me," he shot back.

"My world doesn't revolve around yours. It never has and it never will," I spat.

"Then you're living in a fantasy world. Wake up! Why the hell do you think our parents had been pushing us to spend so much time together in the summer, Evie? Don't you know what they have planned for us once we're done with Hogwarts? Or have you spent too much time with that dim-witted Gryffindor to completely ignore the fact that you don't have a choice in any of this."

I gulped. It was a question I had asked myself the moment Marcus and I had started dating, but one that I had denied myself answering.

Because deep down, I knew the answer…and I didn't like it.

"Just stop," I whispered defeatily.

"Did you honestly think their efforts would be wasted because you suddenly decided you want to branch out on your options? In the end, they always get their way. That's the life we live. They dictate who we become, who we marry, who we give our allegiance to. In the end, they _always_ have the last say."

"Of course we have a choice, Marcus! We have a choice to walk away. We _have_ the choice to say no. This isn't a life I want to live anymore. It's suffocating, it's tiresome, and it's boring! All my life I've been told how to dress, how to act, whom to speak to, and what to do. I barely know who I am anymore!" I yelled back

He bitterly chuckled, "This isn't something we can choose freely, Evie. You think I'm happy that my parents run my life? We make the best of it, and we do it with no complaints. No one ever said it was suppose to be a happy ever ending. You'll soon realize that at our family Christmas dinner."

I looked at him accusingly, wondering if he knew something that I didn't. "Go away Flint. Please, just...go. Thank you, for ruining my night.," I said tiredly.

Before he made his way out of the courtyard, he turned around and said, "You may not choose to believe it, but I actually do care about you."

I scowled, "You have a very odd way of showing your affection."

Marcus shrugged his shoulders and shoved his hands in his pockets, "I'd try if you would take any notice, but I'm no fucking Lancelot. And I'm not Oliver Wood."

* * *

I practically ran through the corridors and up Merlin knows how many staircases before I reached my final destination, at the cost of probably some unfortunate first year Ravenclaws who were in my way.

I entered the library and looked up and down the aisles before I found a mop of brown hair and red robes. He looked up, and immediately put down his book, with that genuine smile he always gave me.

For once in a long time, I really wanted to punch that bloody face.

He must have sensed my anger, "What's wrong?"

"I'm a fool!" I hysterically yelled.

"What on Merlin are you taking about Evie?"

"Marcus…he..I..," I struggled to complete a coherent sentence, and as a result just blurted the next thing that was on my mind, "What are we Oliver?"

"What do you mean what are we? We're friends aren't we?"

"Are we?" I asked, trying to keep my voice low but miserably failing. I could feel the eyes of curious on-lookers burning my back, but I didn't care.

"Of course we are. What on Merlin are you going on about?"

Ignoring his answers, I kept rambling on complete incoherent nonsense, "Ever since I've started talking to you, being around you, _laughing _with you, people have been talking about me. Those _stupid_ Slytherin girls have the _nerve_ to laugh at me while I'm still in the room and I know it's always about me. The quidditch team has basically labeled me a blood traitor and now Marcus threatens me. I've always ignored it because I knew they were just stupid rumours. But I don't know how much longer I can go on with this. What the hell am I suppose to do? What in the bloody hell was I thinking? Sometimes…I just think I'm playing a game that has no winner."

"Are you regretting ever knowing me then?" he asked quietly, though I could sense his hurt and disappointment.

I gave out a loud sigh and leaned my head against the wall. "I don't know what to say anymore Oliver. I don't know what to do. I can't go on pretending."

"Then don't."

I felt his eyes burning into my mind and I looked up at him to see our noses almost touching. Now, 4 months ago, the old Evie would have probably threatened his manhood or jinxed him. But right now, in my confused and uncertain state – and the fact that Wood wasn't the terrible bloke I thought he was - I didn't know what I was thinking, or doing.

"Don't pretend anymore then. Listen to your gut and go with it, even if it means utter failure. But you'll know at least you made a decision based on your own passion and beliefs. No one could take that from you…ever."

I opened my mouth to argue back, but he placed two fingers on my lips to silence me. "Don't pretend anymore," he repeated. "It's a painful feeling."

"How would you know?"

He timidly smiled, "I hate always having to pretend that I'm just your friend, when what I really want to do is just kiss you."

He slowly and somewhat awkwardly placed his hand on my cheek, as he expected me to slap it away. When I didn't react, he kept it there. In truth, I didn't know how to react. No one ever told me they wanted to kiss me - Marcus thought it was his right when we started dating. It made my stomach churn and my heart race as if it was high on drugs.

"What if this was all for nothing in the end?" I whispered.

"Only if you believe it, then it will be."

I stared into his eyes, and felt tears threatening to fall as I whispered, "I'm afraid."

It was the first time I ever uttered those two words to anybody before. It wasn't a Slytherin characteristic to be scared. It was seen as weak and cowardly. Even if you thought it, you were expected to cast it out of your mind.

"We're all afraid, Evelyn."

Our heads inched closer as he brought his lips down and met mine. He held them there for a moment, hesitant to linger on, but as I brought my own hands up and wrapped them around his neck, I felt a small smile creep up on both our lips as we both realized what was happening.

Ours lips eventually parted, but our foreheads were still in attached to each other.

"Happy Christmas," he quietly whispered into my ear.


End file.
